5 Years Married – Giving Love a Good Name

My husband and I have had a rough week. It’s been a week of arguing, sadness and mourning, revelations, and heartfelt conversations. We’re both drained, but – can you believe it? – happy. Friday was our 5th wedding anniversary, and although it didn’t go as we’d planned, we made sure it ended up being a great day. That’s something we usually manage to do together – help each other end the day on a good note. Since the 5th year’s traditional gift is wood, I bought us each a pair of chopsticks and carved our initials into the ends, and ’13 with a heart on each chopstick rest. We had a delightfully greasy brunch at Waffle House, browsed some thrift stores for furniture, ate sushi and yaki udon at our favorite Japanese restaurant, and rented “Now You See Me” to finish off the day, along with some wine and movie snacks. Pretty normal and low key.

Yesterday, since Friday’s celebration started later than planned, Tom took me to do something I’ve been thinking about for years. I got my nose pierced. There were some other sweet ladies getting theirs pierced, and we showed ours off and traded piercing stories (I have 7 in my ears, and my navel is pierced.) I have to say, it was much less intense than when I had my belly button pierced, but there was more initial and residual pain, although that’s not saying much. It’s just a bit sore, like a small bruise. I chose a tiny little spike, rather than the more usual rhinestone, only because I know I can easily find a rhinestone after the piercing heals.

 

After the piercing, which took all of ten minutes, we went across the street to a cute little diner for lunch, then down the street to peruse the local apothecary shop. I’m considering going back for a piece of amber jewelry. Lots of moms of teething babies swear by the pain relieving and healing properties of amber, so I wonder if it would do anything to help with FMS pain. If nothing else, it’ll be pretty!

All in all, we’ve had a lovely weekend, despite the stresses of the world. I’m so blessed that I’ve been able to spend the last five years with my best friend, and that we’re able to help each other grow as human beings, and as husband and wife. It’s the biggest, craziest learning experience I’ve ever had, and I wouldn’t trade a second!

Gentle hugs,

Chels

Grief and pancakes.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

Oh yeah, and large amounts of bread-y breakfast foods.

Today is the first official day of our 2-week break from the Tri C (even though we still need to clean it,) and my husband from school. Not from life, of course. Darn it.

Tom finished his last summer final on Thursday, so yesterday he decided to host a humongous pancake breakfast for UTA students here at the center. The pancakes were many. As were the piles of bacon and turkey bacon, plus the giant bowls of a variety of fruits, and industrial sized jugs of syrup. As I’m typing I’m wondering if there are any left over for me to eat for dinner …

Anyway. I helped a bit with the preparation, but my dear husband let me sleep in so that all I had to do was come out and eat with friends. Then I went back inside the apartment to work on some painting and plan a little date for the two of us involving all the spare change I could scrounge. The date included dollar menu items and a beautiful local park. complete with sub-100 degree temperatures!

Breaking from the fun, I’d like to mention that since the beginning of the month (well, really all the time,) I’ve had the death of my aunt looming just behind the everyday thoughts. So, whether I’ve been conscious of it or not, it’s affected my mood and my physical health considerably. Now, since I’m in a flare up, the brain fog has gotten worse, and I can barely even track the day of the week, let alone the actual date.

It’s probably for the best, because today I woke up thinking it was the 10th. Even though I distinctly remember looking at my phone for the date to write on a bill I paid yesterday. Denial is a river in Egypt. So, I woke myself up early this morning to do one of my favorite things (though I’m sure I didn’t appear particularly thrilled with life to my perkier than is natural, morning-happy husband.) I got dressed up! Today’s church luncheon in honor of the ladies of the “Greatest Generation” (nicer than “We’re Not Sure How We Made It This Long,” though I’m sure a few of those witty ladies would appreciate that title, too) was a lovely excuse to wear my newly thrifted green dress. Tom commented that it reminds him of a vintage nurse’s uniform, and I have to agree. I also got to wear the beautiful black Austrian crystal necklace a sweet friend gave me on Thursday. I put on my peep-toe shoes and headed for church, ready for whatever my friends needed me to do, since I wasn’t able to participate in the planning. Ice was scooped into cups and fancy, tearoom style dishes were plated. There were decorations in pink and gold, and couples even brought their Keurig coffee machines to grace the drink table. The honorees were so appreciative, and we were all glad to learn more about them. It really was a beautiful event; a new tradition I hope will be carried on for years to come to honor more women.

After helping with cleanup, I stopped by a few local businesses to leave flyers for next week’s fashion swap. Then I headed home, changed into comfy clothes, sat down, and it hit me. Today isn’t the 10th, it’s the 11th. Mom and I bought some silk flowers a few days ago to arrange and put on my Nana’s grave in honor of her and my aunt, since we don’t have a grave site to visit for her. I called my mom to see how she was doing and to see if she wanted to take the flowers to the cemetery, and we decided we’d do it tomorrow when Tom and I come over for lunch.

It’s all the same when you can’t remember the date, right?

Gentle hugs,

Chels