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Who’s hand do you want to be holding?
It started with a cheesy move and a simple number on a piece of paper. Now here we are 10 years of marriage and three kids later. Older, greyer and definitely with bigger bags under our eyes. We didn’t know that our life would end up like this; we sure didn’t plan it like this. But I’ve always known that we shared the same goals and that it was his hand that I wanted to be holding on this journey.
When we were first married, someone told me that there would be long hard years of marriage. When I was younger, years did feel long and the thought of having long tough ones was something I was not interested in doing. However, when we first got married, we did have a few tough years as we learned the dance of a marriage. I always knew he was the one, but I was still young and floating through life unsure of where to land, but he never was. He was grounded and had already landed when we met. As I’ve gotten got older, the years seem to whiz by. The hard ones definitely feel shorter and the great ones have started to feel longer.
So while we are in the trenches of raising children and some day’s between dance and t-ball, and work there are few glimpses of our cheesy simple love, it is his hand that I focus on. His hand, that when I’m 80 years old sitting in my rocker watching the sunset, it is his hand that I will still be holding.