My life has just gotten better and better lately. I'm not being sarcastic a bit.
- My baby (my fourth child) is six months old. She's healthy and CUTE as a button. She's such a happy baby. I'm sleeping better. Even Emmy (my third child who turns two in two days) is warming to Tessa at this point.
- My husband is acclimating to his new work schedule and we're adjusting to the cut in hours that scared us back at Christmas. We were worried about it but it's actually been a blessing in many ways.
- My kids are playing well together--Emmy and Dora are finally playing together when Eli's at school. Eli finishes kindergarten soon, which excites me. I miss my little guy during the week.
- My husband is a dream. I'm not being sarcastic here, either. We are doing great.
- The chickens are growing and HILARIOUS. We have a great time with them.
- I'm losing weight. I have lost 10 pounds and have just 10 more to go. I can fit into all my old clothes already. Some are a little tight, but I'll take it.
- My dreams to become an author some day are RIGHT ON TRACK! For the first time ever! I have a novel I wrote in 3 weeks, polished several times and I have FIVE, count them, FIVE agents reviewing my full manuscript as I type. They might all come back and reject me, but for now, I'm feeling on top of the world.
Someone asked me recently about my relationship with Whitney. I love the song Gone Gone Gone by Philip Phillips. In it, a guy talks about how he feels about the person he loves. I feel that way about Whitney. If I could change one thing about it, though, it would be the details. He lists lots of things he'd do. He'd carry her away from war. He'd rescue her, he'd sacrifice.
I think so many people these days measure the depth and breadth of their love for someone by the ultimate sacrifice they'd be willing to make. I think that's backwards. It's not your willingness to die for someone. It's how you LIVE for them. It's the details.
If I had just one word to describe my relationship with Whit, it would be BLISS. Not because we never have troubles or because he never bugs me. Sometimes when he's tired from working nights, he can be a total crap. Yesterday, he asked what we were having for dinner. I told him, anything, since I wasn't eating. I am dieting so I eat crap meals I make in advance and just pull out and microwave. He just looked at me and then turned around and shut the door.
RUDE. I wanted to punch him in his face.
BUT I LOVE THE MAN. With everything I have. Because even though there's an occasional snide remark, or rude action, from either of us, 99.9% of our interactions are kind. Thoughtful. He still brings me flowers. He watches the kids so I can go to a conference in NYC. He takes three out of four kids so I can go to the store with just one (which is essentially a vacation). He cleans and cooks and does laundry whenever he can, even if I still do the lion's share. He helps with the kids in the morning when he's home in time, even though he's mentally and physically exhausted. He tells me he loves me. He tells me he's proud of me. He tells me he appreciates me.
He means every word.
Whitney and I don't carry each other away from war. We don't cut off a leg for the other person. We don't take a bullet for each other. What we do is a lot harder. We give up what we want to do to be there. We get off our phones and talk. We make time every week, every day, every hour to show that we love each other. It's reinforced in the way we speak to each other. In the way we look at each other. In the way we kiss each other.
So basically, my point is that life is good. Everything in my life is happy right now, basically. Even my sister has moved back home, which means I see her a lot more. On a 10/10 scale, I'm a 9.9/10. I am wonderful.
So why did I cry all the way home from the grocery store today?
It hit me this afternoon that the person I'd have been most happy to tell, the person who would have been happier for my happiness than anyone (except Whit) is my brother Jesse. He died in March 2007. He can't see my beautiful children, my amazing husband, my charmed life. He can't cheer and send me elated text messages about my slow and incremental progress in becoming a published author.
My heart broke this afternoon.
I have every reason in the world to be happy. I am happy. I'm just sad that I can't share it all with him. I'm not sure how to explain it except to ask you if you've ever had a person in your life you told everything to. Someone you ran to when you were mad, happy, sad, annoyed, disappointed, grumpy, excited and every other emotion on the spectrum. For 26 years, that person for me was Jesse. Whit had begun to take his place a little, and Jesse had his own kids on the way. Despite that, he was still the second person I shared everything with.
Unlike a spouse, I never asked anything of him. He never asked anything of me. I had no expectations, no demands, no disappointments in him and vice versa. There's something pure about that kind of love. I was joyful for his accomplishments and he for mine with nothing on the line. Nothing at risk. My life is a darker place without him in it. I miss him in the details.
So is the Devil in the details? Absolutely.
But the wonder and the joy and the goodness of God is in them too. Enjoy the details, people. Put your phones down and bask in the now.
