We left the to do's, the chores, the projects that still need completion. We left the zebra blanket and the chairs that have held us all winter and the television that has entertained and/or babysat us. We left, and then we enjoyed a day-long date. Shopping, a patio with sunshine, college basketball, and finally a movie filled our day and allowed the sun to set on our empty house while we were away.
There's this space we have always been able to find, sometimes for an hour, sometimes for several hours, where just Joey and I exist. When the kids were little, the cuddle chair defined this space. We would tuck the babies snuggly in bed and deposit our tired bodies into the oversized chair in our living room. As they grew older and the big girl was old enough to "be in charge" (as if she ever wasn't), we would escape for a date night and claim two hours just for us. While our conversation often drifted straight back to our babies, the time together fed our friendship.
We were young in that space today.
The wreck occurred on our twenty-third anniversary; we spent it with our family and friends in the ICU, all the people in our love story, praying for our girl. While we have talked and debated these last seven months that we need a different date for an anniversary, we decided in our space today that July 27, 2014 is a part of our story. It's a part of the love.
I am thankful for the timeless space I share with this man, thankful that the space has evolved with us, around us, within us. The house in which we raised these babies maybe empty too soon, but an abundance of faith, family, friendship and the fullness of love fills the space, our home.
"For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh." Ephesians 5:31