It's not hard to believe that four years have passed since Heidi and I were married, but I'm realizing, with some disdain, that the time is passing faster than I had hoped.
My mother's parents spoke often of the wonderful years they spent together, and how, all too soon, they found themselves entering new stages of their life. I always admired them for the fierce dedication they had to one another, and the joy that they expressed by loving each other. My parents have been inspiring to me as well, and as I look down the road of life, I hope that my marriage can be solid, grounded in faith, and growing in love everyday.
I've heard many people say that marriage does not get any easier, only more familiar. I can agree with the not-easy part, but nothing that is worthwhile comes without a struggle of some sort. We really don't argue very much, we often seek out the same things, and enjoy spending time with each other over just about anything else. I never expected that I would choose to spend time at home with family over other activities, but it's where I frequently find myself.
I have a few photos on my desk of Heidi and Caroline, and am reminded each time I look at them of how much I love them. I could never have imagined how wonderful marriage could be, and am amazed that things can be this good. Sure, the money is tight sometimes, and sometimes we just don't know how to smooth ruffled feathers, but all things considered, the only thing missing is the white picket fence.
After 4 four years of marriage, I'm still deeply in love with you Heidi. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for saying Yes. Thank you for Caroline. Thank you for us.
Yesterday evening was a very active evening, weather-wise. Tornado warnings, severe thunderstorm warnings, high wind warnings, potentially damaging hail, and more.
Yesterday was also Mother's Day, and we were planning to go to visit Heidi's parents for burgers and a nice relaxing evening. As we packed up the van in preparation for the 5 minute drive, the tornado warning sirens started blaring. Never one to miss an opportunity to see roiling green-tinted clouds while standing under tall trees, I stepped out into the driveway.
Then I heard it...
Turkey in the Straw.
Something was not right. Here, in the middle of a tornaro warning (yes, tornados were sighted on the ground not 15 miles from our home), was the ice cream man, making his rounds. I did not see any buyers flocking out to the truck.
I just started laughing, and had to tell Heidi. Then I called the in-laws and asked if they, too were hearing the tornado sirens. "Yes," they told me. Then I asked if they heard the other sound. "The other sound?" "The ice cream man." "WHAT?" Then they started laughing too.