Gratitude Sunday

Sunday's heartfelt tradition. A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful. A list of gratitudes. (Joining Taryn over at Wooly Moss Roots)

This week I've been grateful for:

* My husband and for all he's given me and my family. We spent two days together, just the two of us, for the first time in six months, this week. As hard as it was to be away from the littles, I think we both feel so refreshed in our marriage and blessed to have one another. (Check out this poem I posted in honor of our anniversary on Friday.)

I am not known for my ability to capture just how attractive people are in real life...and my husband always makes faces when he's being photographed.

* My parents and the crazy amount of "help" they've given our little family. This week they took both of the kids overnight while the hubs and I had our time away. They've done any number of other things for us (there isn't enough time or reader attention span to say it all), but I don't know if I would have made it as far as I have in life without their unconditional love and support. The joy they brought my kiddos this week has been just one small part of it.

My daddy (yes, I'm one of those adult women who still calls her father Daddy) and the kids. He and my mom are just so awesome with them.

* The little things. Like sushi. Really, really yummy sushi. And new fabric.

Delaney's in North Conway, New Hampshire

* Feeling smart and learning about awesome new things.

Poetry Friday (Which Was Poetry Sunday and Will Probably Become Poetry Saturday)

 'Ahidziskeii

It's not a grand thing after all,
just that warm comfort in murmuring "good night"
before I sink into that dark quiet
that exists when we're together.

Otherwise, when I'm traveling,
same same 'good night' on the phone,
and I listen intently (for wheat I'm not sure",
leave a light on for safety, drift off to sleep, half-listening;
a little noise and I'm sitting up in bed, surveying the room,
sometimes even the entire block from the hotel window. 
I rush to the phone and double check,
should  I dial o or 8-911?
I check the locks again, then lie back down 
afraid to sleep, yet wanting to sleep, knowing 
that fatigue will be obvious in the morning.
I've had so much practice. 

When we're together, checking locks doesn't occur to me,
local crime seems so far away (never mind
that we are in the heart of the city),
I insist upon complete darkness, and what I ams sure of 
is that if I turn over, your warm chest or arms will surround me.
That should I awaken, confused as to where I am (once again),
you will reach for me knowing exactly how to reassure me. 

And when we drink coffee together
in this bright California morning, 
mountains towering around us, I move closer to knowing
what the Creator means by "nizhonio 'ahidziskeii."
They are sitting beside each other in a house of beauty. 

Lucy Tapahonso

Five years ago today I married the man I love the most, who makes me smile the broadest, laugh the hardest, and can piss me off more than anyone possibly could (and still accepts my apologies and forgiveness). When I read the poem up above, I see my husband and I, together in our home, our own "house of beauty." It is his "warm chest and arms" that make me feel safe and protect our family. And when he isn't home, there is a hole in our world and things just don't seem quite right. 

Our marriage is quietly special and subtly sweet. There aren't any ostentatious gifts of affection or over the top gestures of love, just the little things bind our family together. Things like never going to bed without a kiss goodnight, or the phone calls to one another when we reach our destinations, or still holding hands as we walk into a store.

I want five years, twenty, fifty years and more with him, learning more about one another, raising our babies, and having our best adventures.