Chapter Five: I Want to Fall With You

I was inspired to write this post quite a while ago,  yet I have been sitting on it, waiting for the right words and thoughts to flow. I may or may not have been inspired for this title by the Greatest Showman and the one scene where Zac Efron and Zendaya are singing 'Rewrite the Stars.' As I listened (and that song and soundtrack has been on repeat for daysss, Y'all), those lyrics stood out and I knew I had to turn them into something: 

"All I want is to fly with you
All I want is to fall with you
So just give me all of you"

I'll be real honest with you and say that at the moment, my husband and I are in an argument. It was a late night last night, feelings were hurt, and I ended up sleeping in my son's twin sized bunk bed (the kids were sharing the Queen in Reese's room). The last thing I said to him this morning was that I needed space to think and process and since then, complete silence. It's what I asked for though, right? I decided this is a perfect time to write about the notion of flying with your partner, and yes, even falling. We all go through it, so why not talk about it? 

Fighting is the worst. If you are aware enough in the moment to think clearly, even for just a moment, you realize you aren’t going anywhere, and that you have to work all this out. The trouble is, clarity in the moment is often very hard to come by, and you might as well have a back-hoe for how quickly you can dig that hole with your words. When she asked for space to process, I finally had that moment of clarity, only after I had created what felt like the grand canyon before that moment. Everything still had to be worked out, I was coming home to her tonight, how deep had I made my hole. 

It has been a week since my horse accident. While the title "I want to fall with you" kind of makes me cringe thinking just how far I LITERALLY fell from my precious horse, I think this phrase in a marriage is gold. In December, Asa and I will reach our ten year wedding anniversary. If you had told me when I was twenty all the numerous things and life events that would happen ten years later, there's no way I would have believed you. First of all, that young twenty-year-old who walked down the aisle was incredibly naive. She knew that bad things could happen, and that sure, there would probably be some tears and fighting, and she didn't have a clue what the vows would actually mean. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health...? 

Watching Ash fall from the horse, and the moments that followed were some of the scariest of my life. Helpless and terrified were the feelings I could best describe. There was so much blood, she couldn’t move her hands, like at all. We had a very real fear that she was paralyzed. Terrified. Not at all like our wedding day. I felt calm, collected, ready. I kept waiting for fear and butterflies to come, for my feet to get cold…but they stayed warm, even in the snow and we were married. We made vows to each other, vows that we didn’t quite grasp then, and likely barely grasp now. But we made vows. Timothy Keller says when marriage gets hard we need to cling to the vows we made, vows we’re still learning to understand. 

Our first year of marriage looked like cheap Chinese takeout and Asa mowing our tiny patch of grass of a yard to knock off some money off our rent. We later stumbled through things like medical bills (did you know having babies is SO expensive????) Every year, God has been good to us and we haven't had to live in fear of not being able to pay our bills; but we definitely know what it feels like to scrap and scrounge for income. And it wasn't the first year of marriage that was the hardest (why do people even say that?!) It was the sixth. The year our sweet baby girl was born. Postpartum and Thyroiditis Ashley began to doubt everything--why did I get married so young? What if I wasn't cut out for this? Am I allowed to walk away? Imagine your husband sitting on the porch with you, dialoguing about all these questions WITH you. Processing WITH you. Standing firm and saying, "I will be here in the morning." That year ultimately ended with us getting I Choose You tattoos (our mantra for each other), and our marriage has since flourished. (Except when I sleep in a bunk bed because I am too stubborn to go back to bed with him...) Side note: get this resolved asap...

The first year was a breeze. We had no money, but we never had any before. So at least now we were broke together! It’s way more fun to be grateful for bad Chinese takeout with someone, that sit alone on the couch alone eating the same bad takeout. Money has always been an issue, and always been a means for God to show up. When I became a teacher I literally got the flu the same week. It also happened to run right into Christmas break from school. We were missing 3 weeks pay from me, and had no money for bills, food, anything. And this was after I got this salary job that was going to change our Chinese takeout status to actual date night in a restaurant status. God is funny like that, in my moment of financial achievement he reminds me how much we need him. People from our church provided for us in a way that I’m still humbled by. The real trouble came shortly after Reese was born. I’ll never presume to know how the mind of a woman works. But night after night, Ashley felt like running. She wanted to leave, or stay, or start over, or give up. Internally I was going through emotional hell, but I also knew the truth. I wasn’t going anywhere. And however this played out, I was going to have to dig out of this hole. So as hard as it was, I chose patience, I chose to sit and talk. We talked about our vows, our children, our life, the what if’s of lots of different questions. I think it was a season that brought us closer together. Somehow in the midst of this crisis, Christ shone in, and Love won.

I can remember Asa being really sick only one time so far. It was when he had the flu shortly after he was hired as a teacher. We hadn't yet begun planning or thinking about kids, and we lived in our second street apartment. I believe it was our second year of marriage? He had incredibly high fevers, a wretched and painful cough, and I've never seen him so miserable. I did my best to love and care for him, but honestly Guys, all of my memories are of sicknesses are the times he's cared for me. In sickness, and in health. He has nursed me back to health numerous times, as I am clearly the more sickly one in the relationship. I've had strep, the flu, random viruses, two babies and going through the postpartum recovery process, and now--NOW, a horse fall. I have a busted lip and a broken lady part and he has sat with me through it all. Fun fact: I recently broke down ugly girl crying after simply going pee, and then as I sobbed, told him I couldn't remember if I had taken my medications. My mind + my body have equaled one GIANT mess, and I just keep hearing those lyrics. 

I don’t get sick. I don’t mean that arrogantly. It’s just true. I was a healthy kid, and healthy still. I joke with Ashley that it’s because I drink 100+ ounces of water daily, and exercise 5 or more times a week, but I don’t really know what the reason. I do know I’m blessed to be healthy, and I don’t take that for granted. My poor wife on the other hand…when one kid sneeze I go by cold and sinus meds for Ash, because I know she’s next. The summer of 2016 was the most epically sick my family has ever been. From the moment school let out for the summer we battled Strep, stomach bugs, flu bugs, rashes, more strep, and a GI bug. When I went back to work in August I joked with my coworkers, that it was a vacation to be at school. Jokes aside, isn’t it wonderful to be needed? Not superficially, but actually physically needed. I “slept” next to my daughter and every 5-10 minutes I held her hair back with one hand and a puke pan with another. She survived the night because I made vows to my wife that carry over to my kids. And honestly, being needed is an incredible feeling. Exhaustingly incredible, but incredible none the less. 

Marriage. It definitely is not always sunshine and roses and unicorns. I'm not sure that he would picture unicorns in the equation of a happy marriage? But I'll roll the dice on that. Sometimes, we fight. We say hurful things, get a little too loud, feel all sorts of anger and resentment boil over in our insides, and coming back together unified can take a little while. There have been quite a few 'for worse' moments and memories in these nine years, but there have also been 'FOR BETTER' ones too: 
Our vacations together and the slow, quiet moments during them. Dancing in the living room, standing on the top of his feet. Laughing hysterically at quite literally the dumbest things. Building homes together, not literally building THE home, but making where we live home. Each one, each time, they've all been home. Having kids together. Watching him be a father. Praying together. Dreaming together. And even though he doesn't love to do this because he's such a hot sleeper, my husband is definitely the best Big Spoon on the planet. I never feel safer than when I am inside his arms, his arms wrapped around me--he makes me feel so small and yet so empowered when he holds me. 

Walking our dogs around St. James court, binge watching anything next to her, climbing mountains and waterfalls. Getting excited to buy a spatula in our first home. Building nurseries and filling them with babies and memories. Back porch sitting, practicing hospitality with her. Getting lost in neighborhoods, and coming up with cover stories about looking for our lost sister. Coffee and pasta. Goat cheese and sushi. Building dreams from conversations, and watching conversations come to life. Praying together. Splash parks, hikes, gardens, horses, open spaces, anywhere she's near. The quiet we can sit in, and have learned to appreciate. Sometimes the still moments near her, and the most valuable in my day.

The moral of my story? Fly with your spouse. But don't forget that while you're flying, there is going to come a moment that you are going to fall--how do you want to do that? Completely alone? Or wrapped in the arms of the one who loves and chose you?

 “Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’  and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’?So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” Matthew 19:4-6

Chapter Four: Babies on the Mind

Well, readers, its definitely been a while hasn't it? January 2017 Asa and I wrote our last chapter, Chapter 3: Love is Enough. If it's been a while for you too, click here for the first chapter, here for the second, and last but not least, the third. I sat down knowing I needed to backtrack, to see where we had left off and what we had written. As I proceeded to read, slowly scrolling...tears completely pooled in my eyes. "Man, Babe," I texted him. "We should write a book!"

I'm not saying that because I think we are the best writers around; bless us, no. But I can literally see every sentence playing before me, as I relive every memory and moment of these first three chapters. I don't think I will ever forget our love story, but maybe I will? And if I do, I want to always be able to relive them as either I read our words or someone reads them to me. So with all of that said, where did we leave off?

At the end of chapter three,  we were talking about our early years; how we were poor and that it never seemed to bother us. We talked about our date nights in, the quiet moments and the love we began to build. So much has changed since that first year and since the first few. Somehow we are soon celebrating our ninth year of marriage, but we have a lot that happened in the meantime. Growing up, for instance, I always told my friends that I wasn't ever having children.

"But, Ashley. You have TWO children," you might say. In the fourth grade, my oldest brother had a Grand Mal seizure and almost lost his life. I honest to God thought it was my fault because I can remember envisioning the night prior what life would look like if Nathan was different. I realize that sounds AWFUL, but my thoughts were very innocent in that; I honestly just wondered how our family of five would look if my brother didn't have the severe special needs that he did and does. I am the youngest and I have two older brothers. I woke to the sound of my mom screaming for my middle brother's help. When I ran into the room to see what was going on, I bolted and hid in my parent's bed. Dad was at work already, and Mom was on the phone with an EMT. Sean, the middle child, yelled at me to snap out of it because I was literally hysterical. [He's not a jerk, promise, but he too was terrified and overwhelmed and feeling as though he had to be in charge to help our mom AND to calm his baby sister down. It was a lot.] In the days to come, I remember being positive that I had heard the Lord speak to me, telling me that someday I would have a handicapped child. I allowed that fear to captivate my thoughts my entire childhood, and throughout the early adult years. I love my brother Nathan [who has Cerebral Palsy] DEARLY, but I knew firsthand what caring for such a special child looked like and in my heart and mind, I never thought I could be as strong as my mother in that regard. Asa and I talked about kids on our very first walk at the park together. We BOTH actually said that we didn't really want to have kids and that for sure there had to at least be a 'five-year rule.'

My whole life I wanted a family. Remember, I’m the kid who got a high chair and crib for stuffed toys when I was 8 years old. Something about family has always had my attention. That’s why in the early stages of our marriage I didn’t seem like myself. I legitimately didn’t want kids. I had grown accustomed to Ashley, to our marriage, to live with just her. Late night movies, sleeping til whenever we wanted, eating where we wanted when we wanted…we’d only been married 3 years but I was so accustomed to her, and I didn’t want anyone to change that.

Flash forward to our third year of marriage, when we were living on the second floor of our second apartment. It was small and quaint and had LOTS of windows. Asa and I were doing well; we loved walking our dogs around Old Louisville and we genuinely just loved being together. We had started going to a new church and became really good friends with a couple who we soon discovered, lived RIGHT across the street from us! My dear friend Allyson, oh how I loved and still love her! She had this really cool Christmas tree with 3D lights and you could wear special glasses to watch them do crazy cool stuff. She loves Friends as much as Asa does, and I would often go there to curl up in a blanket and watch episodes with her. One day, excitedly and nervously, she proclaimed to me that she was pregnant. OHHHH I was so pumped for her! But then why when I crossed the street to go back to our apartment, did I feel so angry and so bitter?! I remember being kind of mean to Asa in the coming days. I was short tempered and emotional, moody and irritated. I talked with my mom daily [go figure] and I asked, "Mom, why am I so upset about Allyson being pregnant?! I'm happy for her!" My mom, who pretty much has never been wrong about me EVER, replied, "Ashley because you want a baby." It all started to hit me so hard, that I even cried in an episode of Scrubs when someone found out they were pregnant. As I sat on the couch, feeling sorry for myself in a completely non-irrational way, Asa joked, "Ash, if you want a baby we can have a baby." I remember looking into his eyes and just melting into a gigantic love puddle. "First though, you'll probably have to come off the pill." 

It started off as a “hypothetical” conversation (we all know what that really means). To be honest, I didn’t have as strong of feelings about kids as I had imagined. I wasn’t jumping at the chance to have my big family, and I wasn’t mourning the loss of “our time” but felt oddly at peace, content might be the word for it. Our conversation quickly turned into planning. When should she come off the pill, when should she start prenatal vitamins, would we need to move, can we afford this, are we ready for this, etc. At the time I heard a piece of advice that I believe is true in most situations with major life choices. There will always be a reason NOT to have kids, or NOT to get married, or whatever the major life event is, but you’re more ready than you think you are. 

Once we made our decision, I remember joking about how I dreaded the whole “trying” part. “Sex every day? Damnit!” But truthfully I kept waiting for horrible mood swings, and Ashley to change her mind. I kept waiting for medical issues, or something wrong to just happen. But the truth? The truth is the idea of starting a new life with Ashley brought me so much peace that nothing else mattered. That’s when I started to daydream about kids starting at Christmas trees, and Saturday morning pancakes, when I thought about first steps, and first words…how could I not want this? How could I not want to watch Ashley share her heart with someone that was half her and half me? And so? We

I remember meeting with my doctor and she instructed me to start prenatals and to be on them for three months [ideally] before getting pregnant. So Asa and I did calendar math, and I prayed a lot. The fear that I had felt for ALL those years had diminished. It wasn't 100% GONE, as I had a lot of fears of the unknown along the way, but I felt at peace which was something I hadn't before. We talked about how we really wanted a summer baby because we were both teachers, and we wanted my maternity leave to coincide with our summer schedule. It's funny how God works things out and how when letting go of the control and demands, He just shows up. We started trying to get pregnant mid-May, and for three months we saw that it wasn't the right timing. Someone gifted me ovulation sticks in September, and it was incredible to me how technology could show me by a smiley or sad face if I was ovulating or not. I remember the exact time the smiley face appeared, I was going to photograph my friend Erin's son for birthday photos. Tonight's the night, I thought to myself. I KNEW I was going to get pregnant! 

Sure enough, about 3.5 weeks later in early October, my period was late. Only by a day, but I took a test anyway. The lines were SO faint, and I had to squint REAL hard to see them. I remember calling Asa up to the bathroom, giddy with excitement, but nervous that I was wrong. I called my sis in law Jana and she sped over. "Oh, you're pregnant! That's positive!" She actually took some photos of Asa and me, and I was starting to get SUPER elated. I called my mom and told her that I wasn't 100% buying it but that I would take a digital test at work the next day and let her know. Jana and I work at the same school, and she brought me the test. I can remember drinking SO much water that morning and holding my pee for what seemed forever. It was a no-kids day, and I texted Jana that I was going to use the bathroom. She met me at the restroom and we waited there, laughing and talking for a few minutes while we waited for the flashing symbol to read the news. Two minutes, (felt like twenty), minutes later, the word PREGNANT appeared. We squealed and laughed and hugged and I called Asa as soon as I got back to my room. [Yeah, I'm terrible at surprises, Y'all]. 

Children are such an interesting creation. I could easily paint a comical picture of all the hardships associated with being a parent, but they’re cliche and old. The truth is, it’s so hard to articulate how much your heart will grow, how much love you can feel because feelings this euphoric are not typical. But as I type this,  I watch my son run around the room playing, and he stops to stare at the snow. As his little inquisitive mind forms new questions and his little body surges with energy and he smiles so big his eyes close, I can tell you that my heart is full. Watching Ashley grow from a young lady overwhelmed with tests in a coffee shop, to now being a mother of undeniable character, gentleness, patience and unconditional love, my heart is full. But the best part of having Ashley and the kids is that my heart is never actually full, they always seem to know just the right way to make it grow.

The nine months of that first pregnancy were magical. I didn't mind one bit my body stretching and growing, the bump growing from the size of a lime to that of a pumpkin. There were times towards that the end that I feared something was wrong, maybe that he wasn't moving enough or he hadn't hiccuped that day. Asa would pray aloud each time and I always felt a surge of peace. Our son was born June 15, 2012--a healthy 8.2# babe, and we had the sweetest summers of our lives. There are a lot of fears that I'm sure are normal when planning for a baby, but I am so grateful that I didn't allow mine to hold me captive. From one baby to two, and my multiple fears within that predestined OOPS; I realize the blessing that is children, and specifically, OUR children. Watching Asa go from a husband to daddy, to the protector and safety of our home, I fall in love with that man multiple times a day. We often ask where time has gone, when did our children go from babies to the four and five-year-olds they are, and we know that these days are fleeting. Watching me grow from a small child to a grown woman, I believe that God has smiled, knowing all along of the two babies he would create for me. 

**Thanks to my beautiful sister in law Bethany, for snapping some photos of us for our anniversary! And happy 9th, dearest Asa!**

When Life Gets Messy, I Choose You

Several people have messaged me here on this platform and asked, "Do you and your husband ever fight? Your relationship looks so perfect and like such a dream." Well, I have some feedback on that and I think it's important to share. First, the answer is of COURSE we fight.

Our first year of marriage I got so angry that I flew out the front door of our apartment and drove to nowhere else than his sister's house; who in turn texted him and told him I was there. I don't think I was trying to hide? And I have NO idea what I was even upset about, but we have since made the agreement that neither of would ever get in our cars and leave during a fight. I can remember slamming a door in our second apartment and my husband then hopping up off the couch said yelling, "I CAN SLAM A DOOR TOO!" and of course the entire house shook when he did. I've called my mother sobbing, even when we also made the agreement that we wouldn't involve other people in our disagreements, unless we really had to. And we've had some really big ones, ones that I don't care to share about in this space or in this nature; because they've hurt, and they've left some wounds and open scars. But as you can see, yes, we fight. We recently had one of the biggest that our nine years have ever seen, but we both went to bed that night knowing that the other would be there in the morning. I think that a lot of people are private about their relationships, and of course, I largely am as well. I want to protect my husband and our kids and while a writer, I know there are boundaries. But I also think that honesty is important. Sometimes we get caught up behind the squares we see on Instagram and we are held hostage to the lies that there exists perfection.

Getting married at twenty-years old meant that I had a lot more growing up to do from the moment that I said, "I do." At the beginning of our marriage during our fights, I can remember thinking, "How will we ever move forward from this?" But we always did. Each day passed and with them, fresh years. I have realized that we will ALWAYS move forward. Promises have been broken, and there have been moments of anger, frustration, and perhaps, even resentment. Which is why I am so thankful for a Savior; for the Creator who from His hands, made both my husband and I. And I don't believe for a second that He makes mistakes. When He brought us together, He knew that I could be hot tempered and Asa could be head strong. I can kill with words and he can get loud. And when those things happen, we can take a breath, look at each other, and remind each other that we DO love one another. You've probably at some point said it yourself, "I don't like you, but I do love you." There are times when I feel as though I really don't LIKE my husband. And he doesn't like me. But we will always love each other. 

Recently he and I were circling back and trying to find some closure and here was his response: 

"After I dropped Reese off at school, I had a long drive to think and pray. As I prayed and worked through the emotions of the fight we were having, it became really clear that I wasn't going to leave, I wasn't going anywhere. The only option was to fix it. To do the work to make things right. To own what I needed to own, to learn from our fight and to figure out how to restore our marriage to love. Leaving wasn't an option, so there was only one real direction to go. For me, healing always starts with the decision of which way we are going. And I'm choosing to always come back to you."

My husband can be a real tear-jerker with his words and ultimately, with how he loves me. Honestly, our recent fight had me in that, "WHAT am I going to do?!" type mindset. The one where you feel lost and confused and all you see ahead is gray. I thank God that Asa brought my eyes back to the colors of our beautiful life, and that he reminded me that I too, will only ever walk forward.

I choose you, Asa, and I thank you for choosing me; even and especially when things get messy. I do a great job of capturing the beauty that is in our household, but please remember that those are because I largely want to remember the good, not because the bad doesn't exist. When I need to decide what direction to go, where to love, I choose the good. I choose you.

Chapter Three: Love is Enough

Before reading, I recommend that you catch up. [chapter one: here and chapter two: here]. Heck, you may be new here and have zero clue what we are writing about. So take a ten minute refresher and then c'mon in, chapter three has arrived! 

Within a matter of days, my heart was 100% Asa's. He worked early mornings at the coffee shop and between classes, I was working several random jobs. He would come over after finishing a shift and we would spend hours together doing life. I remember the long walks best of all...back before we had a rigid agenda. When we would daydream of the romantic families that lived inside those big, beautiful victorian homes--not really having a clue someday we too would be in a gorgeous and charming house of our own. I was planning a trip to Michigan pretty shortly after we met and I himmed and hawed with my mom about bringing him to meet them. Well, he came with me, (surprise, surprise), and then after that, he came to our Thanksgiving my brother was hosting in Nashville. There were a lot of moments where I fearfully tried to push Asa away. I loved him, completely and fully without a doubt, but that's what intimidated me. I wasn't trusting of men, especially after a very unfortunate work incident my freshman year; and yet, there was absolutely nothing untrustworthy about Asa. It's funny that looking back now, nine years later, I don't specifically remember the fights that I would pick with him, but I DO remember sitting outside my house in my car just stewing as he said,"If you want to break up, YOU have to end it. Because I am not going anywhere and I refuse to back out." As I write, I can so vividly see how God has used that same phrase in our marriage over these years. Remember, I choose you? Asa's been saying it from the beginning. 

The fall of 2007 will always be a magical memory for me. Something about love does that. Something about falling head over heels makes everything seem magical. We shared haunted houses, and long walks through neighborhoods dreaming of days to come. We went on romantic dates to the theater and learned how to be still with one another in coffee shops. We learned how to talk when there was nothing to say, and how sometimes the silence together said more than words ever could. October quickly became November.  It was no surprise to me that when she invited me to attend her families Thanksgiving in Nashville, that I jumped at the chance. I mean, turkey is turkey anywhere, and if I could eat alongside her, that made the turkey comma way better, right? But then, that sacred family holiday happened. Lights, and trees, and presents appearing everywhere. We found ourselves in an odd situation of wanting to celebrate together, but clinging so hard to the family we always knew. How could I skip my family Christmas…ever? I didn’t want to be away from the warm fire place, and crazy traditions that had defined the most magical of seasons my entire life. Ashley, being from Michigan set out to leave around the middle of December. We figured a break would be healthy, and that we would see each other after the holidays. We said our goodbyes, and she drove away.

Christmas was soon approaching and it was a different time in my household. There was some heartache that year amongst us and for the first time, my heart felt a piece of home was missing--even though I was there, back in Michigan. I knew that this piece was Asa, and it felt baffling that the holiday just didn't feel quite right without him. I was doing my best at home to be present; to love my parents well and laugh with my brothers. But emotionally, I was absent. I kept picturing Asa there in Kentucky, wondering what he was doing, who he was laughing with, how many hundred cups of coffee he had have. So when he called me Christmas night and told me of some huge news, I was beyond ecstatic. 

Christmas of 2007 was a good year in my family’s house. My siblings were all married, but still made a good effort to be there and to celebrate. My parent’s home was cozy and inviting. Mom is a bit of a nut for Christmas, and we had nine trees decorated all over the house. Christmas carols rang out over the home stereo, cookies and other goodies were constantly being baked or eaten. The door seemed to always be opening to friends and family. In a way, I can’t fully describe it; we were happy, healthy, blessed beyond measure, full of laughter and Christmas spirit, and yet somehow...I was sad. 

In the midst of all the family festivities, I knew Ashley was having a different experience in her home that year. And I knew that she too, needed something else for her heart to feel complete. I took a gamble that I was the missing piece, scraped what little money I had in savings, combined it with the money I got for the holiday, and I purchased a last minute, one way ticket, to Kalamazoo, Michigan for December 26th. It wasn’t Christmas, technically, but it was all I wanted. Love is interesting. I know how much money I had working at the coffee shop part time, so there is no way financially it made sense for me to buy this ticket. Not to mention once I had the ticket, I had no clue what I was going to live on once I got to Michigan, but I guess I didn’t care. Love isn’t logical. It never has been. Love requires action. It’s perhaps the strongest emotion we have, that can sustain us through so many ups and downs, because it can be so fleeting, it must be fought for and clinged too. I got on that airplane, on the 26th, and made it back to my love. That night we privately exchanged gifts in the upstairs room of her parents’ house. The same room just 7 months later I would get down on one knee and make sure forever with her would take place.

As soon as I saw Asa in the airport, I couldn't contain my joy. Walking towards me in a grey sweater and tattered jeans, I fell in love all over again. And while he spent time with me there at home, I would do that many times--fall in love with him that is. From the second he met my parents, there was something about all of them that just clicked. From the beginning, fall 2007, he just fit. He loved my brother Nathan well--reading books and making him laugh. And he and my other brother Sean also hit it off. My mom knew, my dad knew, I knew... and I realized it was only a matter of time before this guy asked me to marry him. Well, seven months later to be exact. Looking back, some things are fuzzy and others more clear, obviously bound to happen with time. But I remember SO clearly, Asa getting down on one knee in the exact same room we exchanged those Christmas gifts. I can still hear the emotional sob my dad accidentally let loose, and my mom downstairs loudly whispering, "Did you get a picture, Terry? Did you GET a picture?!" I immediately wanted to change our Facebook status (I am so lame, guys...) and I texted all of my friends. I have always been a woman who has doubted the good, and suddenly, there it was: the beautiful realization that I would never have a Christmas without this man. 

An odd thing happened the following year. December of 2008 we got married. Prior to the wedding, we set up our apartment, and as every good Glass should, our Christmas tree. I pray I never forget that ratty second hand tree from my mom, or that dark, dingy apartment which was all lit up with twinkling lights. I pray I never forget quietly watching Ashley hang the few ornaments we owned and the way she looked. I set there in awe of the blessing that was starting right there in that very moment. This was our first Christmas together, our first tree, our first everything…and I cried gigantic tears of joy because it was the first of so many more to come. The traditions we have as a family started that year, with a couple of poor kids, so in love with each other that family wasn’t enough, logic couldn’t prevail, without a clue as to what life was going to throw at them. We just knew, in that dark little apartment, among those twinkling lights, love would be enough.

One afternoon during wedding planning my mom called me. "The church can do the end of May 2009 or December 20th of this year," she said. We knew we wanted to get married before the New Year (I desperately needed in-state tuition at the University!!) and beyond that, we didn't want to 'play house' anymore. We wanted to live it. So December 20th it was. As we prepared our first apartment for the holiday and for us living in it together once married, I can still remember his eyes watching me. I was hanging old ornaments and the dogs were on the floor at my feet; in the midst of the lights around the tree I noticed that he was crying. I'll never ever forget the way he lovingly looked at me. As if his entire life, he had been waiting for this moment.

Flash forward a little and my most romantic memories live in that apartment. I reminisce with my friends often, about how we were poor and didn't care. Cheap Chinese takeout and Grey's Anatomy was our Thursday night date, and I loved every second. We laughed, we fought, we cried, we played and we loved. May we never forget the love that bound us together--the early beginnings, the simple traditions, and the legacy we long to build with our now children.