Fourteen years ago (yesterday), Miska said yes. I giggled my way through most of the ceremony, an annoying (and quite manly, I might add) nervous response. The first few minutes, Miska thought my giggles were endearing. Ten minutes later, not so much.
We had a morning wedding and couldn’t wait to get on the road. Off on our honeymoon. It’s been a long road from there to here. I’ve been surprised by some of the detours and cul-de-sacs. But I’m thankful for every mile, even the hard ones.
Fourteen years later, the moments I most crave are our Fridays together. Just the two of us, thanks to the City of Charlottesville’s generosity (via the public school system) in watching our boys. We walk. We talk. Some Fridays, we grab Naan bread from the local bakery. We may watch a movie or take a nap. The day is a prayer. I love those Friday sabbaths, and I love the evenings on our balcony, after the boys are in bed. Tea in hand, Carter Mountain in full view. Sunlight fades, and love blooms.
There isn’t a person in this world I love more. There isn’t a person on this wide globe I respect more or believe in more. This I’m certain of: if you don’t know her, you are missing out on one of God’s good and beautiful gifts.
Over these years, we’ve had several stretches where love was hard, not easy. We had to say yes again and again. I plan on speaking that simple, powerful word ’til death do us part.