Not a lot, and yet

It's hard to believe that four years ago, nearly to the minute, Gus and I were standing in the sealing room of the Portland temple. Our friends and family were surrounding us with congratulations on our minutes-old marriage and I couldn't stop grinning. The day would go on, some of it craziness and some of it drama that I'm only now beginning to be able to laugh at and some of it wonderful loveliness. For those few hours in the temple, though, things were perfect. We each have an incredibly poignant memory from that time, and lots of little others that we savor. We were together, we were about to be married or married itself, and that was all that mattered. If I close my eyes and let my mind drift, I can still feel for him what I did then. It's different now. We've been through the upheaval and growth that is years of marriage. Some of it has been difficult, excrutiatingly wrenching growth, times that we weren't sure we would make it through. But we have, together. Our love is deeper, now, and yet sometimes I still feel a newness, a freshness, and it takes me by surprise. Last night, after soothing our baby back to sleep, I crawled into bed and just watched him sleep, tears welling in my eyes, amazed once again that he's mine. I couldn't be more pleased, or more grateful, to be going through life with him at my side.