Love

Eleven years ago, I married my best friend.  We eloped in Las Vegas with only two of
our best friends in attendance.  The idea of escaping to the desert and keeping this life
changing ritual all to ourselves was incredibly romantic to us.  I wore a white dress
that Shawn's late grandmother bought for me, my own grandmother's ring on my little
finger.  We recited the vows spoken by couples in love for thousands of years, our eyes
locked and our souls connected.  Shawn sang our favorite song to me under the stars
after carrying me out of the little white chapel.  We danced under the big Nevada moon
and called each other by our new names: husband and wife.

Eleven years later, I love him a thousand times more than I did on that night in Las
Vegas.  We have seen each other through years of growth and change, dreams manifested
and heartache realized.  We have made each other laugh, brushed tears from each
other's cheeks.  We've rejoiced over our greatest accomplishments, been crushed
by devastating disappointments.  But we did it all, together.  When the day seemed
darkest and impossible, we stood firm and fought the roughest seas.
Together.

Eleven years of marriage and we bought our first home.  Our very own dream house,
an endless assortment of home improvement projects and trips to the hardware store.
We have renovated almost every room of this home ourselves.  Together.  It is our pride
and joy, our blood sweat and tears, a decade of money saving and dream wishing
come true.

Eleven years of marriage and we are parents to Isabelle and Brees.  They are everything
to us, two little angels we used to dream about before we were even married.  We've
always wanted a family, always talked about kids.  And here we are, giving bubble baths
and wiping noses, one more story before bed and piggy back rides down the stairs.  We
want more, but will be satisfied with whatever God blesses us with.  Life is busy with
growing careers and two little girls wanting all of us, but we are learning the fine art
of balance, one day at a time.

Eleven years of marriage and he still makes me laugh, still drives me crazy, still makes
me raise my voice when I know I shouldn't.  He has become much more reserved, I
have become much more confident.  We are both more slow to anger, more careful with
our words.  We have learned to pick our battles, accepted that you can not change a person
in who they are.  I need to become more patient, he needs to work on letting his
pride rest.  Eleven years of marriage and we have learned to value our own
individual alone time.  We appreciate not having to be together all the time and have
settled into a place of contentment with ourselves.  We have a lot of shared interests
and spend way too much time talking about music, football, and Home Depot.
In that order.
We are each other's biggest fans.

Eleven years and we are wise enough to know that the words "easy" and "marriage" do
not belong in the same sentence.  We work for everything we have, keeping our eyes on
the prize and our minds focused on what's real and true.  When we fall on hard times and
lose sight of each other, one of us takes the brunt and pulls the other back up.  And we
never forget the words we spoke on the night we promised ourselves to each other: I want
to walk this earth with you.  Hand in hand, one experience after another, little hands
relying on us to lead them through.
Walking this earth together.

I love you, Shawn Scott.
Thank you for letting me be my own free bird and loving me for it.