down the aisle

July 13, 2012

Dearest,

Ten years ago today, we walked down the aisle together for the first time. I’ll never forget the way you looked at me, standing there across the stage at your sister’s wedding. Thick as the emotions were, there was no way I could help that big smile from flooding my face as we walked out together.

Later your quiet, soft-spoken grandpa grabbed our arms, put them together and said, “We think you two make a really cute couple.” At our mild protests, he just thought a minute and said, “Well, we’ll see.”

Tonight, we’re babysitting while your sister and her husband go out for their tenth anniversary. Their three kids and our three kids. What a lot can happen in ten years. I guess Grandpa was right. (I always thought he was. )

Thanks for being the handsomest groomsman ever. And for becoming my groom six years ago.

Love,
your redhead

July 13, 2002

Filed Under: Letters to My Man, Love Tagged With: Memories 7 Comments

dance

June 29, 2012

Dearest,

We always said we’d learn to dance when we got married.

But first there was a broken leg to prevent it, then there was always a baby belly or a baby in the way.

We keep saying we’ll take dancing lessons when they’re older, laughing that by the time we get around to it we’ll probably be too old and decrepit to dance.

In the meantime, we side-step around each other at the sink as we wash and dry the dishes together.

Then we stop for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen and find ourselves swaying to the music.

Six years and no dancing lessons. But we’re learning the give and take, the lead and follow, the steps to this dance we dance together.

It doesn’t look quite like Cinderella and Prince Charming twirling around at the ball, but I think we really did learn to dance when we got married.

Lots of Love,
the girl with two left feet

Remember when the sound of little feet was the music
We danced to week to week
Brought back the love, we found trust
Vowed we’d never give it up
Remember when
-Alan Jackson’s “Remember When”

Five-Minute Friday: dance

Filed Under: Letters to My Man Tagged With: Five-Minute Friday 13 Comments

married to a writer

May 27, 2012

Dearest,

Did you know what you were getting into, my love, when you married a writer?

Did you know it would mean oft coming home to dishes only half finished because inspiration struck in the midst of the soap suds?

Did you know how often I’d nearly burn your dinner—or forget to get it started altogether—because I’d be deep in the midst of a project that involved words and websites?

Did you know that you were marrying a girl whose ideas of a fun evening are reading a book, listening to a book, or writing something (presumably) shorter than a book?

Did you know you were signing up to have your love story published far and wide and your love letters be the background for a blog?

Was all this covered in that chat you had with my daddy? Or was it something you guessed, since you’ve always known me better than I know myself?

And here we are, six years and three children later.

You still vacuum the floor that – in the midst of brainstorming for a post – I hardly even notice is covered in crumbs.

You still eat my cooking even when it lacks the creativity of my writing.

You still write me mushy Hallmark cards because you know how much love put to paper means to me.

And you still read the words I string together, even when they aren’t written on heart-shaped stationery and mailed just to you.

Thank you for loving me in spite of my writing habits.

Thank you for your sacrificial love as you pick up the slack in the housekeeping.

Thank you for showing your interest by taking the time to give helpful critiques.

Thank you for showing you believe in me by finding me new work projects.

"a real inspiration" Thank you for being the inspiration behind my words.

Thank you for caring enough about me to read my heart put to paper.

I love you, Merritt. So much more than words could ever express.

Happiest of wedding anniversaries, my love.

Yours,
Gret

Filed Under: Letters to My Man, Writing 4 Comments

Valentines & Trust

February 11, 2012

Dearest,

A few moments of reflection, and I’m right back there…six years ago.

Valentine’s Day landed on a Tuesday then, too. And I’d just finally—on February 9, to be exact—used my free ticket voucher to get a ticket to come see you.

I was arriving the day before Valentine’s Day. And we were both learning a lot about faith and trust in two different ways.

You weren’t just my boyfriend; you were (and are!) my best friend. I trusted you implicitly. And we were both trusting the Lord with our futures, with each other.

But having the faith for things hoped for? That was an entirely different matter.

I’m so glad this Valentine’s Day finds us celebrating all those hoped for things all over again…along with a few we never would have imagined that week in February… Winking smile

All my love,
your Valentine

Five-Minute Friday: Trust

Filed Under: Letters to My Man Tagged With: Five-Minute Friday 1 Comment

one more kiss

July 15, 2011

PICT4220 Dearest,

Every year about this time, it all comes flooding back to me. The reality of how close I came to the loss hits me full force.

The loss of you…my then-newlywed husband, my best friend, the father of our then-future children (whom I already knew would have reddish blond curls!).

You laugh when I entreat you to be oh-so-careful today. No, I’m not superstitious. (Even though I’ll never let you weld on Marlys’ birthday again!) It’s just a lot of déjà vu each year.

Walking those same sidewalks where I was when I watched the ambulance go by on its way to you. Buying coffee at the same little coffee shop Marlys bought me an iced mocha that morning. Visiting all the sales I never got a chance to that day.

I call you too many times. Just to hear your voice. To make sure you’re still okay.

Just a few seconds of remembering and I’m reliving it all. Your brother and Uncle Bill showing up to get me, so hesitant to tell me. The drive home I don’t even remember. My new father-in-law assuring me you’d be okay. The long drive to the hospital. Finding you in so much pain. Praying with you before you went into surgery. Begging you to keep breathing.

picture taken one month after your accident I’m ever-so-thankful when we all get home safely Thursday night and we’re sitting in bed, me rubbing your sore ankle. Not that this Thursday of July is any more dangerous than any other Thursday of any other month. Each day is a gift. Some days, I’m just more aware of it than others.

Some days, I’m remembering how I ran over to you for one more kiss that morning. And that memory makes me race back to the door for one more kiss. Because we never know when it might be the last goodbye.

So thankful for the five years — and many kisses — more we’ve been granted together, by the grace of God…

Love always,
your girl

Five years ago, two short months after we’d been married, my husband was welding on a fuel tank when it exploded, shattering the bones in his left leg and burning his arm. We are so grateful for God’s protection (it could have so easily taken his life), healing (his leg still bothers him some days, but he can run again!), and provision (through Samaritan Ministries and the family of God). Since I’ve never collected them on this blog, here are the posts from ylcf.org chronicling the story: