It's Been 4 Years

Four years ago today . . . I woke up overjoyed. Hopeful. Excited. Filled to the brim with love. I don't remember all the little details, but knowing who we were back then, Chad and I probably held hands the entire two hour drive to Logan.

Leading up to that day, I remember that Chad wasn't looking forward to all the picture taking, but I can't remember him complaining when the day came. Looking through our photos, all our smiles are real. I know I couldn't stop smiling.

Marrying Chad has been, and always will be, the best decision of my life.

We met while serving our missions in Texas and quickly became friends. Well . . . sort of. It was more a friendly rivalry/competition to see who could poke the most holes in the others logic or point out the other's silly quirks or make fun of the unintentionally hilarious things the other said. It was fun. And I was completely oblivious that Chad was falling in love with me in the process--I should have guessed, I am pretty fabulous after all.

Then I came home, and about six weeks later I got a very brief email, "as a matter of man pride," informing me that Chad liked me and would I write him. I laughed out loud. I reread the email. I laughed out loud again. And then I wrote him back.

The rest is history. I fell in love with Chad through our letters, and my biggest concern when he was coming home was whether or not the man from the letters and the physical man were the same. Had I misread? Had I understood his humor and tone of voice right?

Yes. I had. And after I discovered that, Chad and I were nearly inseparable. We spent as much time together as we could. We became best friends. Total confidants. Comforting supports amid trials. Chad became my second half--a half I hadn't realized I'd been missing but who I now miss whenever he's not by my side.

In hindsight, I think our engagement was too long, but I suppose we were married soon enough.

Today--a mortgage and two kids later--our lives are very different. We have days where we're both so bogged down and discouraged by our financial stresses, Chad's work drama, the pressures of running a household, the overwhelming demands of parenthood, and more that we barely speak two words to each other. We just silently go about our day trying to cope.

Those are the bad days. I'm not entirely sure their avoidable, but they're the exception, not the rule.

But mixed in throughout the roller coaster that is our life together, there are so many tender moments. We still hold hands in the car. We still kiss goodbye. We even still occasionally leave love notes.

And even though our kids add a lot of stress, they are also the sources of our greatest blessings. They are constant reminders of what real love is; like when I go to talk to Charlie after angrily sending him to his room for doing something I didn't like, and he stops crying not because I've comforted him, but because he's more concerned about whether or not I am ok.

When I look back at my wedding day, I sometimes find myself nostalgic for the care free bliss I felt that day--a bliss fuelled by our love for each other and buoyed by our lack of worries. But there was so much missing!

And I will take the bad if that's what I need to appreciate the good.

Every once in a while, I feel like I catch a glimpse of what eternity really is. It usually happens when Chad, Charlie, Emmett, and I are together: playing with toys, reading books, wrestling and tickling each other. It happens in those simple, everyday moments when time seems to still and I can not imagine my life without them in it--it becomes unthinkable that there was or will be a time when we are not together.

That's eternity.

I know that Chad, Charlie, Emmett, and I were together before this life. I am grateful that Chad and I lived our lives in such a way that we met, fell in love, and were sealed together. I know we can be together after this life, and I will spend my life working toward that goal because there is nothing more important to me than my family. Being with them forever is worth whatever sacrifices I have to make.

So, tomorrow will I wake up overjoyed? Hopeful? Excited? Filled to the brim with love?

Maybe. But I have no idea, and I'm too exhausted to think about it.

But I will be with my family. And that's all I really need.

Today is the anniversary of the day when eternity with my husband and children became a reality. And that certainly is worth celebrating.