Snap Shots of a Seven Year Marriage

August 11, 2000

I lined my eyes with my sister's brown liner. You picked me up in your red truck, I was wearing a pink skirt. I was quiet. Your eyes were bloodshot. My dress fit loosely, it had to be pinned. Later, you kissed my head as that black bat clung to the granite walls of the temple. Faces. Kisses. Embraces. Dancing. You and I started forever.







March 16, 2003

Thoughtfully, we planned her birth. Things don't always work out as planned. The memories are few, I was so tired. She was chubby. You were crying. My mom was worried. You were too. You brushed the hair from my head. Anxious faces and commotion left me uneasy. Finally quiet. She looked like you.



November 13, 2004

You kept track of my contractions and my complaints. You held back my hair. Our baby came complication free. Her arms were spread wide. You said her mouth was big. I smiled. You said her eyes were big. I know. Her skin was olive, so is yours.




November 17, 2006

We walked and walked and walked. Nothing. Stripped membranes. Broken water. Nothing. You rubbed my back and held my hand. You held the bowl and wiped my face, over and over. You came when I called and stayed when I was scared. You reassured when I was confused. You brought me our son. We named him after you.

Happy Anniversary J.Bradley. I love you.