While Alex was at an interview yesterday, I ran to the store to gather our Thanksgiving groceries. We are hosting Turkey Day for his family and are introducing them to their first vegan Thanksgiving (Tofurkey not included).
As I weaved in and out of the aisles, the scent of Christmas trees abundant, I gathered produce in thin, plastic bags and took my time, careful to cover all items on my list. I gathered fresh yellow tulips and pecan pumpkin bread and cranberry walnut bread. I scratched off the dishes in my head: peanut sweet potato soup, arugula salad, brussels sprouts with cranberries and thyme, white bean potato mash, acorn squash with quinoa and pistachios, dark chocolate bark with pistachios and a natural pumpkin pie.
When I came home, I worked on my novel, something I take such great pleasure in. When Alex returned, he ducked into the other room, as I listened to Pandora and finished a few articles. Then, in my inbox, this:
The morning is long gone. Thoughts and small memories float around my mind and out into the air of our apartment. Thoughts of waking up. Thoughts of looking at you from across the gym. Knowing how madly in love I have become with you in such a short time. Thoughts of my 9:30 interview. Thoughts of tasting your sweet lips before departing, and feeling the one and only thing that has and will always exist as ‘home’ to me: you. Thoughts of what was said for 2 hours. Thoughts of what’s to come. Thoughts of my life and the journey I am blessed to experience with the only person I was meant to experience it with. Thoughts of our child growing inside of you. How thankful I am, and how honored I am that you will be its mother. The most amazing woman I know will not only be my best friend, my love, my everything, but she will also be a mother. I could not have picked a better person. I could not have wished for a better person. I could not have imagined a better person.
As the music stirs the air on the other side of our apartment and your fingertips float with ease across your keyboard, the only thing I can think of is how much I love you. How much you mean to me. How much happiness you bring me. How much I need you. How much I would do for you. How much I missed you for the first 29 years of my life. How much you have always been a part of me and my life. How much ‘us’ means to me. How much I brim with pride being married to you. How much strength you have given me. How much excitement I am filled with knowing that I get to spend my life with you. How much that time will never come close to being enough. How much you are my world.
I love you, Rea Frey Holguin. From now until always. I will even when I am no longer here.
Happy Tuesday, gorgeous. You grow more stunning as the days pass. Don’t ever forget how much you mean to me. You have filled every missing piece in me beyond capacity.
I stopped the monotony of what I was doing and crept into the other room, smothering Alex with kisses, falling into him, holding him. We’ve been lucky enough to work in the same space and spend an exorbitant amount of time together over these past two years, but things are about to change. Different jobs will lead us in new directions, and next summer, it will never be just the two of us again.
There is comfort in that, and trepidation as well.
But, as I look at my husband, who has become everything in my world, all I feel is grateful. Grateful that I found him, grateful for our lives, grateful that we get to work it all out together, grateful that he will be the father of my child.
I am grateful. Right here, in this moment.
Because it’s all I have.