And I’m back. In an abundance of words, thoughts, and happenings, I froze. But the blogging hiatus is over.
After a storybook wedding, a honeymoon in paradise, and three months of Mr. and Mrs., I am now writing to you from the tropical land of Married People. It’s a pretty great place to live but here’s the thing, I kept waiting for the Super House Wife phase to set in so that I could make my blog look really good. You know the kind: Polaroids of aprons and cookies. Homemade decorations. Lunches packed in eco-friendly ways as my husband traipses off to his perfect job. I could even change the name of the blog. Something like “EbdoesPerfect”. But it’s been three months now and I’ve made one batch of failed cookies, my decorations are barely out of storage, and we are still waiting on Roger’s Green Card so he usually packs my lunches for school. We are hilariously happy and stupid in love but, I have had the epiphany that most of you Married People have all had: Marriage is the ultimate test of bravery. Yes, it is.
I started this blog as a way to stay brave as described here. I am naturally fearful but I don’t like being afraid. God has led me through some scary times including quitting a good job, starting a career I never knew I wanted, taking care of my mom for a five year fight against a truly terrible cancer, figuring out how to live without her, and watching friends marry off and reproduce as I tried to hold it together. All of these things took a brand of courage one only gets supernaturally and, although I have a fantastic family and incredible friends that were in it with me, I was still alone. Now, I am finding that joining my life to another human being is wonderful, comforting, exciting, and essentially, pretty terrifying. No, really. He would agree. It’s straight up scary.
Here is the scary truth: we moved to Oahu with no jobs, one car that’s been giving Herby-esque farewell hints, and definitely no idea where we were going to live. For two weeks we established home-base in a friend’s guest bedroom where I would be alternately reading every single post on Craigslist or breathing into a paper bag as landlord after landlord asked us pesky questions like “How will you pay rent?” Details. It was in these hyperventilated moments that my husband came through, because he is a champ, and prayed me back into shape. We were in it together. I had the responsibility of encouraging him and respecting his decisions and he had the responsibility of lovingly scraping me off the floor every time I melted down. All I wanted was to pack him a lunch but we didn’t have a kitchen and he didn’t have anywhere to go. So I had to be a different kind of awesome. A brave kind of awesome.
Today, we live in a delightful house on a Kaneohe hillside with super neighbors and a landlord that loves to give Roger construction projects. The place is so cute these days that I may have to take some polaroids soon and show you. Our car has even been starting regularly and Roger has some job leads that look very promising. As for me, school continues to truck along and I am in a pediatric clinical rotation that I love. So, the scary truths aren’t SO scary. I still have the brave responsibility of encouraging and trusting Roger with my well-being and he has the courageous duty of loving me through my fear and pulling me back into orbit when I start to whirl away.
We are figuring it out a day at a time and almost every morning I wake up and realize that there is a human being who will always be there. ALWAYS. This is both weird and wonderful.