NaBloPoMo Day 27: Thankful

I have an announcement brewing. I am not really ready to come out with it just yet, there are too many variables for it to be, you know, public knowledge, but soon, I think. Suffice it to say that today, a day that we are so focused on gratitude, thanksgiving is something that is really resounding with me.

Our lives are so complicated and challenging, and they become more so all the time. The challenges multiply all the time, and we live in a time where easy answers are rare and there are no real black-and-white issues anymore, and the shades of grey fade into each other in ways that defy us as citizens and human beings and children of the universe. When gas prices are high and unemployment is even higher, we're frightened of each other and we're troubled by what we see on the news, we focus on what we want and what we need, not so much on what we already have.

This has been a challenging and, in a lot of ways, frightening year for me. There've been highs and lows and every time I have found myself up against a wall, there's been a way to re-frame the question and I can keep on going. Don't think I don't recognize the fact that I've been lucky, and resourceful, and that I've worked hard and kept my head above water, but never, ever has it all been about me.

This has been a year when I've had to re-define what "enough" meant to me. Our lives have undergone dramatic change, and they will undergo even more dramatic change, and I am constantly reminding myself that it is all manageable when I remain humble and grateful and loyal and constant.

I am grateful to my family, my boys, for their faith and fortitude. I am grateful to our parents, whose support is our foundation. I am grateful to our friends, the family we chose, who sustain us.

Today we celebrate our small victories. We enjoy the fruits of our labors. We remind each other of everything we've achieved. We prepare for what's ahead and remind ourselves that there will be more good times and more lean times and we'll be together again and the circumstances won't matter then either.

If only for today, be good to your family and your friends and your neighbors and yourself. Be kind to someone even if they don't seem to deserve it. Pay it forward. Remember that in an existence like this one, in a universe like ours, there are no mistakes, there are no accidents, only gifts and opportunities. Say thank you to someone who helps you, even if helping you is their job, even if they only think they've helped you. You might be the only one who says thank you to them all day.

I am thankful today, and I pledge to try to remember to be thankful tomorrow too, and the day after that, and the day after that. Thanks is something to aspire to, to work towards. I don't think about that nearly enough, caught up in my everyday, and I pledge to try harder.

NaBloPoMo Day 16: Domestic

Dan and I got married in July of 2004, in my grandmother's church. One of the drawbacks to getting married there (beside the fact that it wasn't air-conditioned, and I was wearing a big, hot dress comprised of many layers of non-breathable, man-made fabric) was that the church was pretty strict about the music that they allowed. Nothing secular was permitted, which was fine with me because I wanted to walk down the aisle to Purcell's "Trumpet Voluntary."

Dan, however, wanted me to walk down the aisle to a song by a band called Domestic Problems from Grand Rapids, Michigan. The song was written by the lead singer for his own wedding.

My husband, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, is very much the sweetest, most adorable man on this earth. Here is Domestic Problems performing "Beautiful Girl." I choke up a little every time I hear it.

Nourishing Me

I rarely do this.

Please go to Suburban Bliss and read Melissa Summers' post "This is a first draft." She has written a post about her childhood that is so raw, magical, and beautiful that it has completely taken my breath away. I have gone back and re-read her post several times this morning, and I will probably continue to do so throughout the day.

As parents, we want so much. We want it for our kids and for ourselves and for the world that they're growing up in. We can't fathom a world in which our children experience anything except love and compassion, despite what we go through ourselves as children. We fight tooth and nail to protect what's soft and new in them, the openness in them that comes from never having been hurt before.

Last night, Max and Dan were watering the plants. It's cold enough here that we've dragged all the tomatoes and peppers and herbs inside, and they're continuing to thrive in the loft, which gets a lot of light from the southern exposure. Dan was telling Max about the plants, how we take care of them, give them light and water and we trim them back, and they grow and make food for us.

Dan said, "We take care of them, and they take care of us."

Max said, "They make us strong and healthy, right, Daddy?"

Dan said, "That's right."

I grew up without a father, and in many ways it was a mercy, especially when compared to the horror that Melissa describes. When I was 15, my mother remarried a man whom I have always called Tom. When my parents split up I was four, and I don't remember what I ever called my father. But the word "Dad" was not in my vocabulary until my son learned to speak.

The word used to be a question mark to me. Now it's a symphony.

It's just another way that my family nourishes me.

So Much More Than A White Dress

Dear Gerry and Trina,

Dan and I have been trying to think of something to say about marriage to the two of you. Basically, you couldn't find two bigger proponants of the institution than us. We have been married for four years, which isn't that long, but four years is as long as you spend in high school, or getting a college degree (or a third of a college degree, in some cases.) It's not an insignificant amount of time. In that four years, we've moved halfway across the country, we've gotten new jobs, we've lost family members, made new friends, rediscovered old ones, encountered crushing disappointment, had a baby, watched him start to grow up. And we've done it side by side, which is what marriage is about. We haven't always seen things eye-to-eye, but the point is that you will continue to have moments of significance throughout your life, and this other person will be there to bear witness.

In four years of marriage, we've learned some things. In lieu of our wedding present, which still isn't finished (but to be fair I'm making significant headway), we have the following pieces of marriage related advice for you. Like all advice, it is at least 38% bullshit and possibly not at all applicable to your marriage, but it's what we've learned.

One is to never go grocery shopping when you're hungry. You'll blow your budget completely. This is actually a good lesson for anybody. A corollary of this rule is that, although you're newlyweds and perpetually on your honeymoon and you can barely go to the bathroom without each other at this point, it is really best to grocery shop alone. I spend so much less money when I grocery shop alone, it's ridiculous. I don't know why that is.

A marriage is like an inside joke. Once a lot of other people become privy to the joke, it is not as funny.

Another thing that we've learned is to never try to move furniture or hang artwork after 9 p.m. It is a sure recipe for a knock-down, drag-out fight. No matter how good a mood you start out in, no matter how firmly in agreement you are about the right thing to do, three hours later you will both be sweaty, furious, not a single step closer to having things arranged how you want them, and quite sure that you've married the only person on earth who can screw up the use of a laser level.

Your spouse is family you choose. This information is more important than you think.

Sometimes you feel like this person's conjoined twin, sometimes you will need a little space. Sometimes you will feel like you will never run out of things to say to each other, and sometimes you will worry that you will never have anything to say to each other again. Sometimes you will feel like everything is worth it all the time, and sometimes you will feel you've never been happier than when you were living alone. In every case, you are both right and wrong, simultaneously.

Don't assume that your spouse can read your mind, but if you're trying to hide something, keep in mind that this person knows you better than anyone has ever known you, and part of the reason you married them is their brain. You are probably getting away with much less than you think you are.

Your marriage is not a static thing--you will go through cycles of being close to each other and needing distance, talking a lot and leaving things unsaid, getting along famously and bickering a lot. There is a level of comfort in getting the distance that you need and knowing that you can come back, knowing that you can argue with your spouse without them holding a grudge.

Don't hold grudges.

Respect each other's privacy, space, needs, dignity, foibles, pet peeves, and opinions. You can safely assume that someone who loves you will willingly make sacrifices for your happiness and safety from time to time, but you didn't marry a martyr. Neither did they.

In my experience, relationships fail because women expect men to change, and they don't; and men expect women not to change, and they do. Accepting your partner for who they are, or aren't, is a key to living happily with another person.

An excellent way to end a fight with your wife is to suggest that she might feel better after a nap. Then make it possible for her to take one. Likewise, an excellent way to end a fight with your husband is to suggest that he might feel better after a snack. Then make it possible for him to have one.

Pick your battles, and learn when not to talk.

Whatever challenge, opportunity, disappointment, disaster, or hardship comes your way, remember that you are on the same side. You chose each other for a reason. You are each other's advocate, partner, and best friend, and those things are even more important than the mere formal title of husband and wife. You were those things before you stood up in front of your friends and family and took vows, and, at least in my mind, they are just as sacred, just as significant, and just as permanent as the vows you took.

Don't worry. Marriage is easier than it looks. Anyone who tells you how "marriage is a lot of really hard work" may potentially be doing something wrong. I have found being married to be a hell of a lot less work and complication than being single ever was.

I love quotes. This is part of what our friend Kurt read at our wedding, and I found it to be profound then, and still true now:

"Marriage hath in it less of beauty but more of safety, than the single life; it
hath more care, but less danger, it is more merry, and more sad; it is fuller of
sorrows, and fuller of joys; it lies under more burdens, but it is supported by
all the strengths of love and charity, and those burdens are delightful." --
Bishop Jeremy Taylor

Dan and I wish you both the best of luck. We hope you find marriage as otherworldly as we have, and we are thinking of you this weekend.

Love,

Molly and Dan