Two years: The Tradition of Cotton

Today is our second wedding anniversary. Two trips around the sun, two daughters anticipating a new year in middle school, two little guys in heaven, two healing mommy and daddy hearts.

This day has come with an unexpected “anniversary reaction” for being an anniversary. By that I mean, it’s started a lot of crying, when usually I’d bet you’d picture romance and champagne.

I can just remember our last anniversary so well.

And in the most honest way, August 6, 2017, I had everything I could have ever wanted.

We had just announced we were having twins!

The biggest of my health woes were behind me for the moment, and I had finally stopped needing nightly injections to protect me from strokes, organ failure, or other clotting issues.

 

Jeff and I woke up, packed a suitcase and headed out the door at a leisurely pace. We drove for a while toward San Francisco, and Jeff took me to my first surprise: rolled ice cream. It was so icy cold and tasted like cookies and cream. The man behind the counter scooped the rolls into a paper cup, then sprinkled on multicolored marshmallows and strawberry stick candy. I remember the way the chocolate syrup pressed into and ran down the fresh whipped cream. We shared bites, and Jeff tried not to notice me hogging all of the ice cream. That’s love.

Next, Jeff treated me to my first experience with Japanese ramen, in Oakland, CA.

 

 

Let me say, if you’ve only had “Top Ramen”, I recommend branching our farther. You’ll need to save a lot of pennies, comparatively, but it will be worth it.

One of these bowls had the most sublime, perfect flavor for me, and one was a bit salty for super sensitive pregnant taste buds. Jeff ate the one I didn’t prefer. I watched the ramen chefs preparing everyone’s meals and we commented on the parenting techniques of our neighbors, who had children in tow. We left holding hands and Jeff was sure to walk closest to the cars on the sidewalk.

 

We made it to the hotel early that afternoon. I felt like a princess. Every staff member we met greeted us as “Mr. and Mrs. Harris.” I wanted to call the front desk simply to hear this greeting over and over and inflate my marriage-anniversary ego. I pretended to need things and replied to myself in my best hotelier voice.

We nibbled on shrimp cocktail, spinach and artichoke dip, and hot chocolate. They offered us wine and Jeff declined on my behalf because, “We’re expecting”, he’d explained. Oh those words.

 

We warmed ourselves on the patio by our own fireplace, listening to the crash of waves on the shore. I studied Jeff’s face and, for the first time in months, took in deep breaths and dared to feel safe.

Room service came and we shared a fantastic meal together inside our calm, spa-like room.

In the morning, Jeff took a conference call for work and I slid into a deeply drawn bath tub. I was careful with the water temperature but spent so long relaxing I needed to add hot water several times.

I slowly washed my arms and belly so many times the water became a beautifully scented, milky white, and I reveled in the feeling of floating around. Three people in one tub. Plus a daddy nearby.

I dried off, wrapped in a robe and a soft brown patio blanket. I brewed chamomile tea and tiptoed, toting a scone outside.

Tiny brown and black birds flitted, swooped, and hopped all around. One little bird in particular was willing to brave the fire and came closer and closer hoping for a nibble of my scone. We talked and observed each other and by the time Jeff came out a few moments later, we were fast friends. Jeff talked to me about the types of birds, which I’ve forgotten now, but we shared in their pleasant twitters and beautiful, simple colors.

We meandered home way of highway 1, taking brief walks with oceanside views.

Jeff took several of our first “baby bump” photos at this beach, where flowers had grown so tall they were eye-level.

We were happy. Deeply happy, and present.

A month later everything would change.

But here, in this very photo, frozen in time, we are there together. All four of us.

We were Happy. Deeply happy, and present.