Six Years

Six years ago yesterday, the rain poured down as Brice and I stood inside the temple, waiting for my brothers to buy some umbrellas. We had just been sealed for eternity.

What to say after six years that hasn’t already been said at least once or twice? Not a lot, probably, except that every day I am more grateful for this marriage to this wonderful man. Where else could I find someone who would laugh with me instead of getting angry when our daughter smears poo all over him—or when our GPS suddenly thinks that we’ve gone airborne? Where else could I find someone who would make me want to be a little better every day (sometimes a lot better)? Someone who is never intimidated by my intelligence and who can more than keep up with me? Someone my children love to see at the end of the day—and someone who loves to see them too. A man who would use the word “aplomb” in the same sentence I would and who knows the color mauve. I could go on and on, but suffice it to say I like him an awful lot.

On that day six years ago, the rain cleared up, leaving it cool and gorgeous for pictures and just for enjoying the day. It sprinkled later on our outdoor reception, but not much. Not enough to mind. It felt a lot like life has been overall: brief, torrential moments of misery and panic but mostly sheer loveliness.

Looking forward to more of the same.

I love you, Brice!