At least once a day I have moments that I try to capture in my head and store in my heart.
Memories I want to last forever.
My cameras aren't out as much these days.
In fact, I don't know where two of them are. (?!)
So I purpose to make the memories stick somewhere in the crevasses of my heart, in order that I can pull them out when I'm pruny and grey and recall how very blessed I have been.
This morning, I went about Creedence's feeding and then handed him off to Michael for ten minutes. Michael put Creedence back in bed, and when I came into our bedroom, Michael pulled me to sit on his knee and put his arms around me. Then he prayed. He prayed for our daily lives, for our sons, for our relationship with God and with each other.
He prays with me every morning. But today I wanted to make a memory of it.
This man---this humble, patient man---chose me.
And it took me seven years of close friendship with him to say "hey, he might be the guy for me...."
Our marriage isn't about fireworks and candlelit dinners---although we've had those.
Our marriage wasn't a whirlwind romance; romance comes disguised in different forms.
Our marriage takes work. Daily.
But this morning, as he pulled me onto his knee and prayed, I thanked God for our marriage, silently.
I am so blessed to be this man's wife.
So memory, please, stick in my heart, so that when I have dementia I can still vaguely recall how beautiful marriage is and how God has blessed me incredibly.