I married my quiet man...
Relationships up to the point H and I had met had been sort of soul-crunchers, and I had been staying far, far away since my move to Boston. Rationalizations popped up, of course. I was busy, I was adjusting to my new life on the East Coast, new friends, a small bit of schooling, new job(s)... H stepped into this busy quagmire one January.
We met on a blisteringly cold evening for drinks at The Top of the Hub, and talked into the night. Rather than face a train ride home on the T, I let him drive me home. Smiles, much talk, a Hey, we should do this again... and quietly, almost imperceptibly our lives started to entwine.
He asked for my hand while we walked, or offered me his arm. Often. Books, movies, any old topic of conversation. I introduced him to local live music like Jim's Big Ego, and he picked me up at 4am one morning so that we could drive to Lexington for the Patriot's Day festivities that begin at dawn. We shared our love of travel and history and old New England cemeteries. And one cold December evening he took me on a carriage ride and proposed... It was the same year that we lost my Grandfather to a brain tumor, and we both flew to Wisconsin to share our news and attend the funeral. It was the makings of a bittersweet weekend.
Planning was a whirlwind, as we had a little less than a year. It was a wonderful celebration with 100 friends and family, packed into an old New England church's pew boxes and an old New England home for food and dancing. I panicked only when I discovered that "Our Sunday" coincided with the Fall daylight savings time that year. (Although, I suppose that would have meant people would be an hour early, not an hour late...). We still laugh that facing each other at the front of the church, we each grabbed the wrong hand when it came time for the rings...
It is seven years (and one child) later. I love taking his hand, spooning into his back at night... I am barely awake many mornings when he leaves before first light. It is a safe cocoon when he settles the comforter more securely over me before he leaves.
Seven years of a quiet whirlwind that blew into my life. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Happy Anniversary H!
Relationships up to the point H and I had met had been sort of soul-crunchers, and I had been staying far, far away since my move to Boston. Rationalizations popped up, of course. I was busy, I was adjusting to my new life on the East Coast, new friends, a small bit of schooling, new job(s)... H stepped into this busy quagmire one January.
We met on a blisteringly cold evening for drinks at The Top of the Hub, and talked into the night. Rather than face a train ride home on the T, I let him drive me home. Smiles, much talk, a Hey, we should do this again... and quietly, almost imperceptibly our lives started to entwine.
He asked for my hand while we walked, or offered me his arm. Often. Books, movies, any old topic of conversation. I introduced him to local live music like Jim's Big Ego, and he picked me up at 4am one morning so that we could drive to Lexington for the Patriot's Day festivities that begin at dawn. We shared our love of travel and history and old New England cemeteries. And one cold December evening he took me on a carriage ride and proposed... It was the same year that we lost my Grandfather to a brain tumor, and we both flew to Wisconsin to share our news and attend the funeral. It was the makings of a bittersweet weekend.
Planning was a whirlwind, as we had a little less than a year. It was a wonderful celebration with 100 friends and family, packed into an old New England church's pew boxes and an old New England home for food and dancing. I panicked only when I discovered that "Our Sunday" coincided with the Fall daylight savings time that year. (Although, I suppose that would have meant people would be an hour early, not an hour late...). We still laugh that facing each other at the front of the church, we each grabbed the wrong hand when it came time for the rings...
It is seven years (and one child) later. I love taking his hand, spooning into his back at night... I am barely awake many mornings when he leaves before first light. It is a safe cocoon when he settles the comforter more securely over me before he leaves.
Seven years of a quiet whirlwind that blew into my life. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Happy Anniversary H!