It’s 4:30 in the afternoon and I just sent my husband an “I miss you” text.
R: Can I come home yet? I miss you.
K: I miss you, too.
And suddenly my heart hurt with the happiness of it all. I spent all of yesterday with Kyle. We did a “staycation”, our #knaptondayoffun. We visited local establishments for meals and books and beers, and then we came home to cheerfully lament our overly full bellies and went to bed early because we’d exhausted ourselves with all that excitement.
And yet, even after a full 24 hours with nothing but Knapton (I just came up with that and it made me laugh out loud), I sit here at my desk and I miss him. Sure, sometimes he’s the most annoying, most obnoxious, most aggravating person I’ve ever known, and yet for some reason, I can’t seem to get enough of him. Isn’t that wild? Who would have ever thought that an only child who craves quiet and space could ever be lucky enough to find someone that she’s willing to share that quiet and space with? Someone who’s willing to share his quiet and space with her? I look forward to seeing him every night when I get home, and I can’t wait to say good morning the next day (although I’m sure he often wishes I could wait and would let him sleep just a few minutes more). I can’t find enough lucky stars to count to really emphasize just how grateful I am that we found each other.
It’s little moments of epiphanies like this that make life really seem worth living. Sometimes things aren’t perfect, and sometimes life is hard (and by sometimes, I mean basically all the time). But then sometimes little thoughts strike me, like this one, on this mundane Thursday afternoon when I remembered how blessed I am to have a husband whom I miss every moment that we aren’t together. Other times the epiphanies are work related, like when I pass along a love of “Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging”‘ to a 6th grade girl who then conspiratorially mentions “Nauseating P. Green” to me like an inside joke that makes us both giggle. How amazing is it that that’s my job?
There are days when work is frustrating (hell, there are days when marriage is frustrating), but then there are moments; little, tiny, almost insignificant moments, that can explode in my head like supernovas. And it’s the combination of those moments that help remind me what a wonderful little life I lead. But most important is the desire and need to remember those little moments, because sometimes in the big moments, the sad, or scared, or angry moments, it can be hard to think of the happy things. And so here I sit, reminding myself of the little moments, so that if (when) something comes along to get me down, I can look back on these little epiphanies of joy I’ve just recorded. My hope is that I’ll remember to smile and keep looking forward to the next happy moment that’s bound to be just around the river bend. (I couldn’t resist the Pocahontas reference there, I just couldn’t.)