Blending. We simply stepped in, one after the other, in and out of transitions. Once in a while smooth, with snack-y dinners, family snuggles & pick-up soccer games. Oftentimes tense, in the loudest silence, a harsh word, or slamming doors. The world around is full of pain, and we're feeling that on an intimate level. Try as we might to hold each our own, all of our feelings spill onto one another. Blending, as we know it, has not been easy or clean. No, it's very messy. But it's beautiful, too.
One day, sitting across from my husband in an Italian restaurant, I noticed him fiddling with his ring. The little gold band circled around his finger as he turned it. "Why do you do that?" I asked him. "Because it's comforting to remind myself that I'm married, to think about being your husband." On August…
Once upon 8 years ago, a handsome college freshman found my phone number, called himself a "woo" and became my best friend. Just a couple weeks later, we went on our first date.
Eric loved to dance and he took every opportunity to sway with me to the music. Sometimes it was pretty and sweet like a waltz, peaceful and pleasant to behold. Other times (a lot of times) it was more like a passionate tango as both of us fought to take the lead, and often made others uncomfortable. We glided over smooth surfaces in lovely outfits but also tripped on tiny toys with spit-up everywhere. We zig-zagged and jumped to music videos with our littles. Here are a couple of my favorite dancing memories.