According to CalendarHome.com, that's 5478 days,131,472 hours, 7,888,320 minutes, and 473,299,200 seconds of story - chapter by chapter - written one memory at a time. Thanks to the beauty of blogging, I can look back to this date in 2009 and 2010 and reflect on what I felt then - which is better than the best gift because I am instantly back to a reflection frozen in time...and I find my sentiments stretch now further into the deep.
You know, we ask ourselves a great many questions about marriage today: Do we talk enough? Save enough? Spend time together? Spend time apart? Are we attracted to each other - as friends, as companions, as lovers? Are we in love? Are we even happy?
Culturally, we've never chased after the elusive concept of happiness more than we do (arguably) today. In the face of dwindling 401K's and swelling debts, diminished jobs and increased global warming, less everyday joys and more long-term burdens, we just don't feel happy. At least, not all that often. But what is happy, anyway? I mean, I'm happy when Judsen tells me he loves me - for no reason at all. I'm happy when my coffee's hot and when I don't have to make dinner. I'm happy when there's a card in the mail, addressed solely to me. And I'm happy when I wake in the morning and listen to Craig beside me...just breathing.
Like "love" and "awesome", "happy" has become one of the most overstated words in American use, so much so that we're left wondering exactly what it means at all. But when I go back to its roots, its original connotation of an in-the-moment, blissful awareness of making contact with that soul-spot now contented by an instant's happening....well, then, I think of my husband, my companion, my best friend, and my lover.
And I find that I am truly happy.
473,299, 200...201...202...203...seconds of happy.
With the best seconds yet to come.
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