12 Years

Last weekend was our anniversary.  Twelve years together.

Matt has always been a remarkable husband: kind, gentle, patient, peaceful.  I’ve never known anyone who makes me so whole.

This past year of our marriage has shown me a new depth to him.  He has always lived for my happiness, but this year, he has given everything for it.

The crowning event of the weekend was that we watched Old Faithful erupt just before midnight early on our anniversary.

As a family, we laid on the boardwalk under the stars, almost completely alone.  We watched the stars come out one by one.  We named them and we told old legends and stories.  We named the constellations and huddled together as the night became more chill.

As our guesstimated time drew nearer, we waited breathlessly for the eruption.  It took longer than we thought, and there were times when it seemed like it would never happen.  Dark clouds moved in and blotted out some of the stars.  But we knew that if we waited, we would see the sight of our lives.

Loving someone is like that sometimes.  Sometimes it takes time and breathless waiting to see the one you Love emerge into the glorious person that you know they are.  Matt has done that for me this year.  He has waited, quietly, patiently, knowing I needed him, knowing that I was coming.  He has had faith that I would come back down from the mountain, purer than before.

When it finally happened… there are no words.  No picture could ever do it justice.  It was truly one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.  The tower of water and steam pushed through the darkness, seemingly cutting through the clouds and revealing the stars once more.  It was glorious, lit up by the stars.  I am still in awe of the memory, days later.

I hope that this year, I can be the spouse he has been.  I hope I can be a patient listener, a quiet waiter.  I hope I can be a seer of good things to come and a giver of dreams.