I remember when we were dating in high school, all snuggled up sitting on the couch by the fire in your parents’ basement, talking about our hopes and dreams for our future. We both hoped to be in each other’s future. I remember going on so many adventures. All the laughs, the jokes, all the times we got into trouble and said, “This will make a great story afterward.”
I remember when you asked me to marry you. We were so young, so naive with no idea of what the future would hold, but we couldn’t have been more excited. I remember our wedding day when you first saw me walking down the aisle. Your eyes welled up with tears and I could never forget the love and adoration I saw there. You still look at me that way.
I remember when I told you I was pregnant with our first child. The way you held me was unforgettable as you soaked in the realization of being a father. I remember when our daughter was born. You were bursting with excitement to hold her and once again your eyes showed your emotion so fully. You felt scared, excited, unsure, in love, inadequate, and a kind of joy you’ve never felt before. I knew you would be an amazing dad even if you didn’t know it yet. I remember when she was toddler and I watched you spin her around and dance with her. She was giggling and you were smiling at her. Few things have matched the pure joy on both your faces.
I remember telling you I was pregnant for the second time. You were reading to our daughter, and I came into her room holding a positive pregnancy test. You looked surprised even though we had been trying and you pulled me into your lap and held me as we silently shared in our excitement together. I remember when our first son was born. You got to help deliver him and once again your eyes were so full of emotion and love, but there was more certainty there this time.
I remember when we bought our first house. For three weeks you stayed up until midnight or later working on it because all we could afford was a fixer-upper. I’ll always be thankful for how hard you work for us.
I remember when I told you I was pregnant for the third time. It was completely unexpected and I was laughing, unsure how to feel about the sudden and unforeseen change in our lives, while you sat on the couch, eyes big, staring at the wall, speechless. I remember when our second son was born. He came so fast I had barely gotten settled in triage, and it was time to push. I was being rushed down the hallway on the triage bed while you ran behind me, hospital bags flying every which way. You watched, terrified, when he got stuck and they had to yank on his arm and push on my pelvis. But once the chaos died down, you kissed my forehead, told me I did amazing, and looked at our baby the same way you looked at the two that came before him.
I remember bringing him home to meet his siblings. They were ecstatic and couldn’t wait to hold him and hug him. I remember an overwhelming feeling of contentedness watching our two older kids dote on the new member of our family.
I remember it all. I remember falling in love and the butterflies I would get when I was driving to your house. I remember getting married and all the time we spent together and how uncomplicated it was before we had kids. I remember once we had kids and our whole world felt rocked. We had to find a new normal and learn to be more intentional with each other. I remember everything.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe where we started and where we are today, but I remember. And I can’t wait to create more I remembers with you, and I hope and pray that when I’m old and gray, I can still look back and say, “I remember.”