flashbacks

My husband said something the other day and it reminded me of the way he was when I met him. Granted, he's still very much that person... But a few years have gone by. The responsibility in his life has quadrupled, and fatherhood has both sharpened and softened him. Nevertheless, that flashback tugged at my heart and made me segue into a rare moment of longing for times past. Suddenly, my mind was filled with sepia memories of Monterey and walks on the beach, hilarious moments in Air Force dorms, and stacks of dates that document the evolution of bubbly flirtation into gritty, solid-edged love. It hasn't even been five years, but it feels like a decade since that time. Now we're scrambling to squeeze in conversations, making mental notes to hold each other's hand, asking absently in the car, "Have I kissed you today?"

It's all very depressing when spun like this, isn't it? I'm turning 24 on Wednesday, and after sitting in this puddle of melancholy reflection, I wanted to leap up and yell, "No!!!! We're young and crazy and we're in loooooooooove! This is the time of our lives!"

And then I remember the first time we really, seriously talked about getting married. It was hardly similar to the glowing scenes from some movies: We'd just returned from a week-long break from our military training (he had gone to Ohio, I to Oregon) and we were about to walk from our rooms to the chow hall (or in correct Air Force terminology, the Dining Facility.) What was this? ...The DFAC was closed a couple hours earlier than usual. The evening was speeding by and we had homework to fly through and uniforms to iron and... man! We grumbled to each other while we trekked back up the hill and ended up sitting in Ben's car, talking. I remember there was a pause in the conversation and he looked away, then back at me, and said, "I just want to be married! And then we'd live together and we'd have our own food and we'd never miss dinner!"

It was funny and awkward at the same time. There was something going on behind the joke. A week later we were engaged; six months later, we were married.

When you creep backwards to look at it in retrospect, there are many reasons (some silly, some sublime) why we made that big leap into forever. Now that we're on the road leading that way, I see that our starting point is not as savory as I convince myself it was. Fond and memorable, yes. I will bore my children to tears with the tales! My grandchildren too! The journey to that day around a table, eating a Thanksgiving meal (complete with the gravy I eventually learned how to make properly), is a blessed, sacred one. Ben? Ah, he's still gorgeous to me even though we've both been sleep-deprived for 2 1/2 years. I love him coming home to me... I love seeing the headlights in the driveway, seeing him make his way up the sidewalk to me, to our home, to our life. I'll take every chapter after the introduction, even the rough ones. With all its difficulties, forever wins every time.