This vase was filled with sand, eight years ago today. We stood, side by side, each with a colour of our own, and simultaneously we poured the sand from our separate vessels into one. On that day we promised to love each other at all times, giving ourselves to one another.  We had no idea of what was to come. What life would bring our way – what ups and downs, what adventures and challenges, what struggles and victories we would face along the way.

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Eight years. 2,920 days, 70,080 hours, 4,204,800 minutes of … life – washing dishes, getting groceries, cleaning house, watching tv, going for walks, drinking coffee, cooking, fighting, making up, talking about nothing, talking about everything, listening, ignoring, holding on, moving on – learning through it all that this process of loving is a choice we make every second of every day.

Eight years. Two new careers. Countless hours spent in classes, writing essays, studying for exams, completing projects. One diligently working to get the task done while the other missed their company. But all along the way, cheering each other on to complete the goal set before them. To finish that degree, to earn that title, to fulfill the dream together, and make two dreams into one.

Eight years. Two baby boys. Parenthood both unites and divides. It brings you together with newfound purpose, propelling you into the greatest and most beautiful adventure this life has to offer. But it takes so much of your time and energy, there is often little left at the end of the day for each other. Sleepless nights, feeding struggles, the hard work of establishing routine, trying – sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding – to make time to continue the romance in the midst of it all. Disciplining, teaching, engaging – epic wins and epic fails. And then starting all over again. And through it all, growing to appreciate each other all the more, as we press on to raise our boys in the way they should go.

Eight years. Six moves. Six. Taking down, sorting, organizing, selling, packing. Unpacking, setting up, buying, decorating. Address changes, utility set ups, internet installations, drivers licenses, car registrations, health cards, recycling programs. Heartbreaking goodbyes, joyful hellos. Moving is not for the faint of heart.

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This vase has been through each step. The first few times we moved, I packed it so tight, afraid the sand would change too much, that you wouldn’t be able to distinguish the unique pattern of both colours. That it wouldn’t be preserved as it was on that day. Today, as I look at this sand, as I think of it packed in a box, jostling it’s way in a car, or truck, or bus, from one home to the next, across the prairies, then across the country, I think how perfect it is that it’s not the same as it was eight years ago. It has changed. It is still two colours, but they are more well blended. They have bled into each other here and there. In some places one colour is more prominent than the other, but they are both always present, wrapped tightly together, immersed in each other. And with each passing day, more impossible to separate.

“I promise to love you at all times, giving myself to you.”

Happy Anniversary my Hubs.

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