To Phil, as we begin year 17

It was our anniversary on Friday. Unfortunately, the day had other plans, and we weren't able to celebrate. Saturday, on the other hand, was perfect. We drove some friends into Nanaimo, and shared a poke bowl. I found a park I loved for us to walk through, and there on the cliffside, out of his comfort zone, as he's so often endured through the years, I read him a letter and gave him a gift. 

I'm so blessed to have this man. I guess I should just paste the letter here, so I don't end up rewriting it: 

To say that you have grown in the years since we said “I do” is an understatement. You have multiplied, both literally and metaphorically. When I say literally, I mean our offspring.... I don’t think you’ve gained so much as a pound. The only thing preventing me from princess-carrying you around nowadays is the state of my back.

You have taken the love that we started with, and multiplied it. The exponents you keep using are things like selflessness, consideration, and support. Your desire to grow and improve was one of the things that most impressed me about you when we were getting to know each other, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how much I’d benefit from it! You’ve painstakingly learned my favourite things, endured and even joined in with my quirky sense of humour, and began to embrace (tentatively) the genre of horror. On our road together, I never doubt that you are behind me, sometimes rolling your eyes, but always ready to watch my back and add your strength when mine is failing. 

You have taken your own capacity and multiplied it. Watching you become a father to our babies, and overcome your aversion to germs time and time again was impressive enough. Now, I watch you swallow your pride and admit to our children when you were wrong. I see you set aside your feelings and work harder to do the right thing for them. There I stand, wide-eyed, as you take deep breaths and move through painful situations, where I’ve said something to hurt you, and you are determined to walk straight ahead, holding my hand, despite my mistake. You “wow” me.

You have taken the promises that you made to me, and multiplied them.  As this stage of our lives unfolds, you are stepping into roles that were never your life plan, and you are doing it because it’s what we need. You are committed to being the best husband that you can be. Phil, you have committed yourself to me despite my flaws and missteps, and you keep deepening that commitment. Husband, recognizing and acknowledging how fully  you belong to me is one of the proudest moments of my life.

16 years married... 18 years since that night under the stars when I breathlessly asked if you liked me back, my heart pounding in my chest,  and you are more mine today than you have ever been. Thank you for the gift of your love. Thank you for the gift of your capacity. And most of all, thank you for the gift of yourself.

Philippe John Duprey, I’m so honoured to have you as my husband. The years ahead can only get better; of this I’m sure. 

I cried a bunch, and barely made it through reading. 

Then I climbed a tree and sat on the cliff and we took some pictures, and he stayed safely back from the cliff with his feet firmly on the ground, and I took some pictures... 

I think one of the biggest reasons we've worked as well as we do is that we compliment each other so. Our differences make us stronger, and in respecting (while at times lovingly mocking) those differences we appreciate the other's strength and the way we shore each other up. 

At the end of the day, neither of us are going anywhere. At the very least, I know I'm not, and I'm kinda stronger than him so..... he's stuck. 

37

We never know, moment by moment, where we will be. Year by year is even more of a mystery. 

Thirty-Seven years old. Will this year mirror the joys/changes/pressures revealed by Thirty-six? It was an admittedly much more poetic age, the second digit doubling the first... all swirls and curves... 36... 

Now 37. starts off rounded but quickly comes to a point. Almost jagged, that 7. Prime. The number of perfection... that phrase always twists at the cracks in my heart, now. 

But I'm not dwelling on grief, I'm exploring my new age. 

37. I'm up to date on my homework, completing my BA with a major in psychology. I dropped the English extended minor. When I reapplied to UFV in the summer I found that they had changed the structure of my program. It took some discussion, but I was given permission to be "grandfathered" in by the dean (that made me feel old) blessed to pursue my degree under the old structure.

I like feeling old. It's powerful.

I'm working as a youth support worker. Another blessing; I often have some free time at my job and it's perfectly acceptable to do homework. And, it's still easier than being at home. Sweeping someone else's floor is always more rewarding, for some reason.

My kids are doing well in their school routines. Sometimes it hurts my heart, but I'm still mom, whether I'm with them 24/7 or 7/24 most days.

A couple of incredibly dear friends have had brand new babies, and that always renews my excitement for the world. Life through new eyes...

The people I love most in my life are steadily becoming closer and more indispensable to me, no matter how I may fight within myself to remain independent and nonchalant. Connection... I'm so blessed.

And I'm the mother of a teen. She who made me mom just before 24. She is becoming so completely herself. I'm blessed to be a witness/guide as she truly blossoms.

37. Thirty-Seven. It's prettier written, but whichever way you put it, it's my new reality. A friend gave me a beautiful glass tree of courage, she says I've been so brave this year. Taken on so much. 

I think also, I've let go of so much.

Goodbye, 36. Your lessons will not fail me. through you, God brought me joys I couldn't have imagined, connections I treasure, and tasks that give me purpose. 

I step into 37 determined to become a grownup with a career. I'm on the road to 40. 

It's a steep climb, but I'm not looking back.