Sunday, August 2, 2015

the luckiest seven

 (on our first date in 2008, outside of our clothing store in 2010, college graduation in 2011, and Joony's newborn pictures in our Main Street Rexburg apartment in 2012)

I struggle to write about my marriage.  I worry I'll trivialize it by talking about it with less-than-perfect words, that I'll be unable to express the true depth of my feelings or the complexity of this commitment.  I think people talked to me before I got married the same way they talked to me before I had Clark.  "It's so hard, but so worth it!"  And that's it.  I couldn't ever wrap my head around broad statements like that.  What could be hard about it?  What makes it worth it? I know the answers now, but they're complicated, and it really is easier to say something like "We work hard, but it's the best!" than it is to find the words to say what a marriage truly is.

To me, marriage is having a second person become a part of my story, someone who knows every small triumph, every ugly cry, every turn that led up to those big life moments.  It's sharing a life in the most complete way.

It's being on stage at my college convocation and making eye contact with the person who saw me crying in defeat over a disappointing grade, made midnight soda runs, and took me out to dinner every time I finished a semester.

 It's being handed my beautiful, healthy son by the person who saw my shoulders slump every time I got a negative pregnancy test, who worried while I paced the apartment in the middle of the night when I woke up in pain, who held me while I sobbed because I wouldn't get the birth I'd been so excited for.

It's a celebratory "we sold our business!" dinner with the person who stayed up late after doing homework to do the store's books, who learned how to change bulbs in a tanning bed, who brought me lunch because there were no breaks when we didn't have employees.

It's the years of planning and hoping and praying and risk taking that came before high-fiving each other as we crossed over into Arizona behind a moving truck.

It's exposing every scary, unflattering, awful part of myself and knowing he'll stay after seeing them.  It's best friendship, complete equality, Netflix in bed, knowing his favorite snacks at the grocery store, a quick wink across a crowded room, a million inside jokes.  It's partnership and bickering and back scratches and secret love notes.  18 year old Brandilyn did a lot of stupid things, but deciding to marry David Haynes was not one of them.

Happy anniversary, David! I love you more today than I did on August 2, 2008. I love you more today than I did yesterday. I love you forever.


  1. Oh my gosh, I loved this. Marriage is complicated and wonderful and you expressed it so well. Congratulations to you two on seven years of marriage!

  2. Love this. I love lists of things and memories. yay marriage! ;)

  3. I remember being so excited for you and not even thinking twice about it. Happy seven, you guys! Yours is a marriage I truly admire and enjoy watching :)

  4. You said you weren't sure how to write about marriage, but this seems pretty darn articulate to me.


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