There wasn't much for me to do other than the last minute packing for the kids. Ryan amazingly packed his special new Thomas and tracks... in a box, of course. Richie and Maelynn, upon being told to fill that one special backpack with whatever they couldn't live without, ran about finding treasures and seeking approval to bring them.
I kept nervously going back to our bedroom, suggesting this and that for Eric to pack for me, and now and again he'd emerge with a shirt and a sweater to see if they matched. There was a grand surprise waiting, and I had no idea what awaited.
Aligning with my control-freak tendency, I fought the urge to work too many questions about the weekend into our conversation. I love a surprise, but detest a surprise when I know it's coming. Strange, right? No matter... that's a good lesson for me to learn over and over, because that's likely what it will take to overcome that particular character flaw if I ever overcome it.
Through that poking, I did find out that we needed to pack separate bags for us and for the kids.
The last time we did that was for Eric's back surgery two years ago last January. That was not fun, but very needed. It had been quite a surprise for the both of us, and sudden. But it happened all the same, and we spent our first two nights away from our kids... my first nights away from our nearly twelve month old daughter. Oh how I missed her! But I digress.
We're not the type to drop the kids here and there. We like being with them, and that's good because there's not respite care to be found around here. Not that we wouldn't take a day off now and again more often if it were afforded, but that's just not how we roll.
Once we arrived at our other home, we loaded this and that, and thanked his parents for taking the kids for the night. I reiterated that I knew nothing but that we were to be gone for the night.
With a few sweet, loving "get outta here, ya crazy kids" from Mom and Dad, we were on our way to slay the traffic dragon. Back into Dallas at 5:00 we went. It seemed that all the cars and trucks and vans and taxis in our way might have been placed there just to continue teaching me that lesson about slowing down... about patience... about enjoying the ride.
He took an exit I once knew well, then another. The white tops of the hotel where we dined the night he gave me the ring peeked from the skyline... then we took another turn. Toward the arena where the Stars play. Could we be reliving that part of our evening so long ago? No... they missed the playoffs (again, but I'll leave that). Another turn into a driveway that wasn't there ten years ago... and into an alternate universe.
Without first checking where the elevators were... without making sure we could see the pool... without so much as a thought to whether or not the room would lock in a way that could keep wandering sweet ones in, we stepped into a blissful twenty hours or so.
He had it all planned all along, all I needed to do was follow and trust him.
How novel.
It was simply wonderful. And in its wonder, I realized that pictures, words, souvenirs can only go so far in remembering a moment. At times the pursuit of shellacking the memory in preservation takes the life from it completely.
We took a few pictures, simply because we couldn't believe we were where we were, but the best memories remain locked in our hearts. There are some we gladly share with laughter and amazement, like the fly in his sake at the restaurant right at the last sip and the nervous laughter that surrounded when the lady at the front offered the DJ here and there when all we wanted was to stare at each other.
To remember those first days. The reasons it all started, the way it all started.
Three kids, four jobs, a cat, four dogs, five moves, several losses, changes, and ten years later, here we are. Close to where we started, but only geographically for the night.
Thanks be to God for his providence in bringing us together, and of course for keeping us these ten years.
It's a weekend late for good reason, but I love you, Eric... and I can't wait for tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.
I kept nervously going back to our bedroom, suggesting this and that for Eric to pack for me, and now and again he'd emerge with a shirt and a sweater to see if they matched. There was a grand surprise waiting, and I had no idea what awaited.
Aligning with my control-freak tendency, I fought the urge to work too many questions about the weekend into our conversation. I love a surprise, but detest a surprise when I know it's coming. Strange, right? No matter... that's a good lesson for me to learn over and over, because that's likely what it will take to overcome that particular character flaw if I ever overcome it.
Through that poking, I did find out that we needed to pack separate bags for us and for the kids.
The last time we did that was for Eric's back surgery two years ago last January. That was not fun, but very needed. It had been quite a surprise for the both of us, and sudden. But it happened all the same, and we spent our first two nights away from our kids... my first nights away from our nearly twelve month old daughter. Oh how I missed her! But I digress.
We're not the type to drop the kids here and there. We like being with them, and that's good because there's not respite care to be found around here. Not that we wouldn't take a day off now and again more often if it were afforded, but that's just not how we roll.
Once we arrived at our other home, we loaded this and that, and thanked his parents for taking the kids for the night. I reiterated that I knew nothing but that we were to be gone for the night.
With a few sweet, loving "get outta here, ya crazy kids" from Mom and Dad, we were on our way to slay the traffic dragon. Back into Dallas at 5:00 we went. It seemed that all the cars and trucks and vans and taxis in our way might have been placed there just to continue teaching me that lesson about slowing down... about patience... about enjoying the ride.
He took an exit I once knew well, then another. The white tops of the hotel where we dined the night he gave me the ring peeked from the skyline... then we took another turn. Toward the arena where the Stars play. Could we be reliving that part of our evening so long ago? No... they missed the playoffs (again, but I'll leave that). Another turn into a driveway that wasn't there ten years ago... and into an alternate universe.
Without first checking where the elevators were... without making sure we could see the pool... without so much as a thought to whether or not the room would lock in a way that could keep wandering sweet ones in, we stepped into a blissful twenty hours or so.
He had it all planned all along, all I needed to do was follow and trust him.
How novel.
It was simply wonderful. And in its wonder, I realized that pictures, words, souvenirs can only go so far in remembering a moment. At times the pursuit of shellacking the memory in preservation takes the life from it completely.
We took a few pictures, simply because we couldn't believe we were where we were, but the best memories remain locked in our hearts. There are some we gladly share with laughter and amazement, like the fly in his sake at the restaurant right at the last sip and the nervous laughter that surrounded when the lady at the front offered the DJ here and there when all we wanted was to stare at each other.
To remember those first days. The reasons it all started, the way it all started.
Three kids, four jobs, a cat, four dogs, five moves, several losses, changes, and ten years later, here we are. Close to where we started, but only geographically for the night.
Thanks be to God for his providence in bringing us together, and of course for keeping us these ten years.
It's a weekend late for good reason, but I love you, Eric... and I can't wait for tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.
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