Sunday, December 13, 2015

21 years

Several weeks ago, the Coach and I went away for a weekend by ourselves.  There was a time when a weekend away meant a clean house, meals in the freezer, getting my nails done, having things organized for the kids, and packing my "nice" clothes.

This time?  I literally threw my yoga pants and a school t-shirt in a bag with my overnight stuff, grabbed my laptop, and left a sweet friend at home with the troops in a messy house.  We picked up take-out on our way (and enough for leftovers for lunch the next day) and packed oats and coffee for both mornings. Because we are pretty much 80 years old.  Ha!

And it was heavenly.

Sleeping until I woke up.  Twice.  Planning and discussing and catching up.  Without being interrupted or having the phone ring or stopping to switch the laundry or fix dinner.

Of course we had to come in for a game on Saturday night.  And we missed a game Saturday morning.  We finished it off with our long Sunday run (in the afternoon, because... sleep!).  Even squeezed a movie in before the game.

This week the Coach and I will celebrate 21 years of marriage.  

Which means I've officially been married as long as I wasn't.  Or something like that.

We'll celebrate with a basketball game.  Of course.

At some point over the holidays we'll go to dinner - we've already talked about whether it will be Charlestons (always so good) or the Cheesecake Factory (because we haven't been there in years!).  I'm happy just to BE with my Coach.  Sit across from the table from him.  Talk to him.  Discuss what's going on with the kids. Work through the next week's schedule.

Neither of us are who we were 21 years ago.  But the beautiful thing is that together we've both become something that we never would have been apart.  

I've been so challenged by the Coach's consistency and discipline.  I've even learned a bit of it. And he's learned to extend a lot more grace to his much less ambitious wife.

It's a gift, this thing called marriage. It was God's idea and it's a good one.

Last year on our 20th anniversary, the Coach had the flu.  Five of the kids had the flu.  I celebrated by caring for them.  Not a bad way to commemorate it, really.

This year?  There won't be a cruise or a trip, or much of anything else during basketball season.  And please, Lord, can we skip the flu part?

But real life is truly good.  I'd rather have quiet weekends at the farm working on the budget.  Moments watching our kids on the court.  Precious family time with our college kids home.

So. Very. Blessed.

Happy 21st, Babe.  I'd say yes all over, again.  

No comments: