The Good and The Bad

This weekend was incredible. Friday night, B and I talked his parents into joining us at a new (to us) taqueria/tequila joint, where we feasted on signature tacos (everyone), sangria (me), and a tequila sampler (B). After a fabulous outdoor dinner, his Dad one-upped us by suggesting dessert at the nearby crepe place. Brilliant! We went in with the idea of splitting one crepe and instead ordered four, plus a flight of champagne, two cappuccinos, and a coffee. Full and satisfied, we all slept well that night!

Saturday, B's parents flew off to visit his little brother in New York City, where he's working for the summer in the city's main ER. Seriously. B and I slept the morning away before talking a walk then heading to the Virginia Highlands for a pub crawl/summerfest thing with his coworkers. We left the house at three and I swore we'd be home by six. At midnight, after meeting up with his high school friends, catching a Cowboy Mouth concert, and drinking my weight in margaritas, we decided to turn in. It's a good thing, too-- his friends kept the night going until about three, which would've done me in for sure.

Sunday morning we got up and headed to Mass, a first for me since the wedding, then did a little shopping before grabbing lunch at home, reading the paper on the back porch, and working on a few life things (thank you notes, B's case notes for his law journal). His buddies and one of their wives came over for dinner and we sat on the back porch eating BBQ Chicken Pizza, rosemary bread, wing dip, peach-and-blueberry cobbler, and lots of wine until long after sunset. Our first dinner party!

After they left, we cleaned up, which felt fun and right, even if we were playing pretend in a kitchen we didn't own. We fell into bed around midnight, neither of us tired, and talked for a while. Just before falling asleep, I told B that I still get sad about Daddy, and we stayed up for a good hour or more telling Dad stories, talking about what we missed, and what we think heaven really is like. I cried, and B was there, and it was better. I am so thankful for him, that he loves me, that he knew (and loved!) Dad, that he understands me even when I don't understand myself--and tries to help.

I know marriage can't be all roses and sunshine, but if this is how it feels to have someone to really turn to in the literal darkness, then I am all in. Forever. As if there was any doubt.