Nine Years

Nine years ago today, I woke up with a smile on my face and butterflies in my stomach. I woke up thinking about the marathon first date I had been on that began at noon and lasted until almost midnight. He brought me a Ken Burns Jazz CD that I still haven't opened, and I greeted him with a hug which invaded his personal space. We walked together in a Relay for Life event, we attended a graduation party for a family friend (with my ENTIRE family), and we shared a long dinner over paella and tres leches cake at the Cuban restaurant down the street from my apartment. He held my hand on the way home, looked in my eyes, and said, "I'm not going to kiss you tonight, but I am going to kiss you." A week later he did kiss me. A month later he told me he loved me. Six months later we were engaged, and a year later we were married.

Nine years later, I woke up with a little girl putting stickers on my face and asking for breakfast. I kissed my exhausted husband before he left for a meeting, nursed a sick baby, put braids in Amelia's hair, made lunches and beds, and ran errands at Target. Yesterday, Dave brought flowers home and asked me if I remembered the significance. Then we laughed about what that night may have been like if we had known the path our lives would take. It might have made for an awkward first date, but I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Nine years from now, I know I'll have two teenagers, a few strands of gray hair, and some additional crow's feet. But aside from the inevitable, the future remains uncertain, as it should be. In the meantime, I love that nine years ago Dave Burgess became a part of my life. I love that he used cheesy lines to get me to like him and I love the path that we are on, mostly because we are on it together.