Color of outdoors blog

I caught you eyeing me too many times to count, and all I could do was smile. Looking back now, did you ever think the girl you met at the corner of death and disaster would make you this happy?

You sit awkwardly near the wood stove. Your socks drying from that mornings trek for firewood. Your hair is matted at the base of your neck from the sweat of towing two large logs all the way from the river. The glow in your cheeks and the hint of a smile knows the mornings accomplishments.

You’ll never know how thankful I am that you found me. I look around this cabin now and I’m lost within memories. The photo on the mantle of the spot where you got down on two knees because, “one wasn’t enough.” The photo of Titan, the big yellow lab you got to serve as our ‘tester child.’ Little did we know that some nine months later our first real child would be born. Spencer. In the second framed photo on the mantle.

And you’re so good to him. The way you wish him well every night before bed. The way you straighten his fussy hair and make him smile with your corny jokes. The way you show him how to ride the fretboard like your dad taught you. I love how you make me feel, too, like I’m the best mother in the world even though I am a walking patchwork quilt, just trying to do the best I can to give warmth and feed love.

I walk around the cabin in amazement at the life we’ve built. At the ease in which the day ebbs and flows without fear or strife. Because two people loved each other enough to try. Because two people loved each other enough to forget all reason and doubt.

I’m remembering all of these things now before they even happen. I’m remembering our life, as the frost dries from your beard, as the ice melts from your boots. As I stare cautiously at this beautiful stranger lost in the storm on Christmas Eve night that I found on the corner of death and disaster.

M.