After five years of marriage

Tomorrow is our five-year anniversary. I said that to Christine this morning. She said, “They’ve been the best five years of your life.” She ain’t wrong.

Five years ago, we lived in a 700-sq-ft apartment in Uptown Dallas working jobs that paid the bills but barely more. Nora thrived. She stuck her head through the railing on our balcony that overlooked what seemed to be a kiddy pool and a parking garage. She stayed out on that balcony for hours.

Since then, we’ve traveled all over the world together—Paris twice, Lisbon, Lyon, Florence, Rome, and all over the Swiss Alps. We fought. We won. We learned how to communicate better. I’ve learned not to take things so personally, and Christine has learned to let some things go.

Christine and I are still trying to build the life we want. Right now, we’re learning how to have more margin so we don’t feel hurried. Christine’s learning how to cook with a stainless steel pan and I’m learning how to not kill my new monstera plant suffocating in my dark office. Murphy is learning how to not chase Nora, how to not whine, and how to be a nice boy when our friends come over. Nora is learning equanimity while living in a wide, wild world where she is often the prey.

Most importantly, we’re learning how to take care of ourselves and others—including baby Camille due in eighteen weeks. It’ll be here before we know it.

Lord willing, we’ll have at least five more years to learn how to be parents, how to be good at marriage, and how to be a family.