God set Earth’s orbit at 365 because 365 is the perfect taking stock value. And so now I take stock. Of married life and the past year.
The sparklers were luke-warm when I forgot the one verse I had to recite at the church you grew up in; when our flower girl put the flowers at your feet as we were greeting the guests after the ceremony, because she was too nervous to do so as she walked down the aisle; and when I swept you off to a two-month long honeymoon in Montgomery, Alabama.
And, Kristin, what a year it’s been:
Our road trips were from Minnesota to Alabama to Florida and Georgia, to Kansas (where we’ve lived for nine months), Missouri, and OKC six times to swim twelve. We drove an 84% empty truck from Los Angeles to Wichita because I wanted my baseball card collection.
Our folks spoke at the reception in the barn with the fresh litter of kittens and 80 of your closest friends, and my family
I came home from lunch one day in Alabama. I was excited to eat some peanut butter chocolate Cheerios. You stopped me just inside the door. “I’ll be eating for two for the next nine months.” And our family was begun.
Stone Mountain, Georgia had some good hiking and a famous laser light show that “looks like an old screen saver.”
We went to three pro baseball games and caught one foul ball.
We found a solid church in Wichita as you grew full in front.
You saw all four days and twelve witnesses of my first court case. Win or lose, you smiled and told me I did a good job.
You called me at work at 4:30, “I think my water broke about three hours ago. I made you dinner. Can you take me to the hospital?” I pondered the answer.
Zach came blue and small and tuned pink and full; crying, but lovely.
Your family and my family came. Our family took over and we get to raise this son.
And now, we celebrate a year… I’m thinking Logan’s. And another sixty.