The first year there was apartment 408, forbes and cambridge, long waits at the metro, lettuce wraps on the living room floor, homesickness for college, Shoppers for cheap groceries, trips to Charlottesville and NYC, a new group called devos and desserts, awkward company Christmas parties, and learning DC.
The second year there were new friends, an ACC championship game, wedding road trips, love for eastern market, last minute weeknight restaurant dates, and volunteering at NCC nursery. There was a new obsession with thai food and movies on Tuesdays or Wednesdays or Thursdays.
The third year there was apartment 379, small group leading, Muir Woods in flip flops and plants that smelled like chai tea. There were promotions, late nights at work, dreams and journeys about microfinance, a sprint triathlon and a broken camera. There was another State of the Union, a realization we’d stay for awhile, a real mattress, and Crystal City 5Ks. There were late nights with friends and spades and oreos. There was Harris Teeter and eating out.
The fourth year there was a commitment to celebrate creativity in our home, Ardie, snowmageddon, driving through Times Square, a desire for Del Ray. There were sleepless nights and serving in Nairobi, chasing wildabeest on an African safari, and a little girl named Irene. There was a hot air balloon ride, showers for friends, Thanksgiving in New York, vacations with family, and a commitment to be grateful. There were tears about work, dreams for the future, and a desire for flexibility.
The fifth year there was a scavenger hunt with friends, kite festivals, and Dean and Deluca. There was our fifth Cherry Blossom Festival, a new little place in Del Ray, oxford, a backyard, and a commitment to simplicity. There were bike trips, picnics, day trips to NYC, conversations in Central Park. There were secrets and sickness in LA, preparations for new life, an ultrasound tech’s note that read “girl,” turquoise, orange, patterns, and homemade birds. There was April 9, and 10th, and 11th…. There was more waiting, and then there was April 18th. There was Emerson Kate and a family of three.
The sixth year there were sleepless nights, learning new ways to communicate, adjusting and falling in love. There was refreshing at Keswick, a journey to California, and the fifth Tennessee Ten vacation. There was working from home, a lot of Starbucks, Buzz in the mornings, Trader Joe’s, a table for two plus a high chair, visits from family, a roller, a sitter, and a crawler. There was the Patch and a desire to write, and there was faithful Cambridge. There was biking in Paris, cafe cremes, language barriers, clutching our pockets in Barcelona, and a Spanish wedding celebration. There was fasting and praying and a call to the future, two-months full time, a goodbye to a chapter, and the start of another.
The seventh year there was mama and daddy, walking and talking and running and jumping, swings, strawberry patches, pumpkin patches, and Oronoco Bay park. There was less eating out and more exploring in the kitchen. There was Johns Hopkins, a commitment to learning, and intentional conversations about family and future. There was Charlottesville, California twice, lost luggage, trips to Chesapeake, and a greater love for Del Ray. There was Billy the Bulldog, library story time, goldfish, and snack cups. There was production and small group and coaching and leading. There was the pocket park hills, and a tunnel, and a slide, and and a seesaw.
Happy Anniversary, my love. May our years together continue to be full of adventure and love.