Boxed in, pleasantly

As crazy as day-to-day can get, Lea and I really do try hard to stop and count our blessings once in a while.

We talk about having healthy, well-adjusted children.  We talk about Lea being a stay-at-home mom.  We talk about still being into each other, 15 years into our relationship and 12 into our marriage.  “Life is good,” one of us will say.

And about half the time, the other will pipe up and say “and it’s a good thing, ’cause we can’t get off!”

Actually, we could, but damn, would it hurt.  My favorite analogy for it is riding in an open boxcar that’s moving at, say, 30 mph.  If you were careful—gauging speed, picking landing terrain wisely, planning body position, and so forth—you could get off the train.  But man oh man, would you be bloody.

Lea and I will never have more responsibility than we have right now.  Two small, completely dependent people exist because we chose for them to.  How do you measure that obligation?  Why even try?  What are you going to do besides keep on putting one foot in front of the other for them?

Have you ever really contemplated how complete and without reservation the trust of a small child is?

Lea and I are closing on 5,000 days and nights together, and anticipate many more.  That we are consistent with one another on the qualities that matter for such a journey is perhaps our single greatest earthly blessing.  May we never take it for granted.

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