the rest of May

In May I had actually managed to author an update as I reflected on crossing the threshold from my twenties to my thirties.  And of course, there was the awesome Bat Mitzvah card I received to commemorate the occasion from Philip (still hanging on our fridge btw).

On May 18th we celebrated our 8th year of marriage.  What a wild, beautiful ride it has been.  It's difficult to begin to capture in words what happens when your life, your story, your existence becomes inextricably bound with that of another. Life changes and a relationship comes into sharper focus when you recognize that the rest of the history you write together is comprised of days that are, by all accounts, "bonus rounds." I still look at you across every room and marvel at how I somehow was chosen to be Philip's wife.  He makes me better.
 





The final weekend in May we boarded a flight bound for Denver to spend Memorial Day weekend in Colorado.  We were able to hold sweet Corra in our arms for the first time as we celebrated her grand entrance into our family.  We were thankful for the rest and respite of being in the mountains with people we loved. 

For many, Memorial Day is about pausing to remember. For a few, it is about the things that you simply do not forget. The day is set apart for the individuals who have paid the ultimate price for freedom. Those whose legacies epitomize "service before self." It is also about those who are left holding folded flags and the sharp edges of the shattered hopes of future dreams. There is no 364-day reprieve from the realities of life and loss that remain long after the choking smoke that hangs heavy in the air following a 21-gun salute has dissipated. The haunting silence that fills days and nights after the last note of Taps has faded.  We were fortunate to be able to spend the morning with Dana.  As a humbled member of a grateful nation there were no two people I would have rather had by my side on May 25th this year.