love.

when i was little, we had a cat named mama kitty.  i don't know what her name was before she had babies. maybe she didn't have a name.  it's totally possible.  or maybe she had several.  but none of them stuck until "mama kitty".

she was a great cat.  and lived 21 human years.  (i think that's right.  maybe 19.  i can't remember.  it was a long, long time.)  she is buried in the front yard of my parent's house.  my dad buried her.  she's buried facing east.  "so that when Jesus comes back, she will know and go with Him".  those are my dad's words.

i say all that to tell you that i can distinctly remember being in high school.  getting ready for school early in the morning.  and seeing that cat just snoozing it out on my bed.  or my parents bed.  or wherever really.  because what else did she have to do?

i can remember thinking, "man, i'd give anything to be that cat.  she has the easiest life."

looking back, it's all pretty funny now.  because what in the world was i complaining about?!  i was like 16.  i had it made.  yes, i had chores.  i did my laundry (sometimes) and i cleaned my room.  and i had a job.  but i mean, come on.

i came home to parents who took really good care of me.  if i needed money, i simply asked.  if i needed something specific at the grocery, i just asked.  etc, etc.

i've thought about this a lot lately.  how different life is now that i'm 31 and not 21.  how in only 10 short years, SO much has changed.  i wouldn't change it for the world.  really, i wouldn't.  sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare.

it's always the same story.  i dream i didn't marry clint.  that i married someone else.  he's faceless.  i never know who it is.  it's not some old boyfriend.  just someone that's not clint.  and my entire life seems off.  i'm not happy.  i'm not a mother.  i don't feel like i have a purpose.  it's all really scary.

and i wake in a cold sweat.  and usually turn on the light to look around.  and make sure my life really is what it's supposed to be.  i will then scoot over to clint.  as close as i can get.  where one entire side of my body is pressed against him.  sometimes i grab his hand.  or his arm.  something very tangible.

and i just lay there, holding onto him. about 2 minutes in, i begin to cry.  because i realize that things could be so different.  that i could have said no to his invitation to the dental school christmas party.  that i could have gone to a different college.  and never met him.  that he might not have ever been a science major.  or that i might not have ever been a science major.  and we wouldn't have met that afternoon in zoology lab.

not until recently did i really have an appreciation for couples who have been married for numerous years.  my parents have been married 40 years.  40 whole, long years.  my dad always says that he loves my mother now for different reasons than when he married her.

that has never made more sense to me, than it does at this point in my life.

i finally get it.  i love clint more than i ever have.  but things are different.  we are different to each other.  we no longer sit on the couch holding hands every night after dinner.  instead, someone is on the floor building legos with pratt.  or helping him play "the jumping game".

we, by no means, have grown apart.  i know this because when we have a night to ourselves, i love to sit really close to him.  and force him to hold my hand.  i will intentionally beg to go to the movies so i can loop my arm through his and put my head on his shoulder.

i hope that in 40 years, we love each other even more.  i think we will.  i know that i will.  and i'm confident in saying that he will too.

and more than anything else, i hope pratt and his brother see what that means.  that loving one person...being true to one person...is the most amazing gift you can give.  to your spouse...and to your children.

so, clint...if you're reading this, i love you.  more today than yesterday.  thanks for loving me back. even thought my q-tips never make it to the trashcan.  and even though i never get my oil changed on time.  and even though i don't iron your scrubs like a good wife would.  i'm sure lucky.

have wonderful nights.  or mornings.  or both.