Return to the Scene

My hubby of 23 years took me out of town for the weekend. He wouldn't tell me where we were going. He brought me somewhere I never thought I'd go again, the little motel where we started our honeymoon.

The Camelot Room, to be exact. It just shows how tastes change over the years. The room looks exactly the same--the coat of arms and armor on the wall, King Richard the Lionhearted's banners hanging from the ceiling. Best of all, the Pacific Ocean still washes up underneath the private balcony and the Yaquina Lighthouse is visible from where I sit.

So much has changed in our years together. We've had 9 cars, moved 11 times, had 3 children together. We've earned degrees and learned languages. Last time we were here, we didn't carry computers or cell phones or ereaders or digital cameras. Now we have them all.

Some things haven't changed, though. I'm still madly in love with the man I married and happy to have him to myself for a few hours.

Happy Anniversary!

39

Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated 40 years ago today.

He died too young at the age of 39.

39 years to change the world. That's pretty fast work.

I know.

I'm 39.

Jesus lived only 33 years. Alexander the Great, too. It doesn't take long to make an impact, not if you believe in what you're doing.

On my first visit to Memphis many years ago, a friend drove me by the Lorraine Motel to see the balcony where Dr. King was killed. At the time, the biggest impression it made on me was how run-down the place was.

I didn't understand.

I was born 4 months after King's death, born at the end of the turmoil that embroiled our country. By the time I was aware, the biggest clash was between my orange plaid pants and my pink flowered jacket.

I can't say I fully understand even now, though I've had a taste or two of what it means to live in a country divided against itself. I've also come to realize that it's not the place of death that brings honor or dishonor - it's the life led. Jesus' life was not defined by his death on a garbage heap. Neither was Martin Luther King's by his assassination at a seedy motel. If anything, his choice of lodging speaks of his humility, his integrity.

His legacy.

39 years and we'll never be the same.

Milles Bornes

Milles Bornes is the name of a French card game. It means "a thousand milestones." That's what I've lived with my husband in the past 20 years. A thousand milestones and more.

Moves from Arkansas to Missouri to France to Africa to Washington.

Wearing a path on I-40 between school and home.

Blasting the heat on a car trip in 105 degree weather to keep the engine from overheating.

Trudging through the icy blast of Shamrock, TX in sub-zero weather to find shelter.

2 labors, 3 deliveries.

Culture Shock

College, Internship, Language School, Boat School, the School of Life.

We've grown up together, almost raised each other. (Can't you tell from the picture that we married at 13?)

Love has a way of getting you over bumps and through dips in the road. Here's to another 20 years, and then another.

Here's to another milles bornes.

Half a Lifetime

Whenever anyone asks how long we've been married, I joke, "Forever."

Well, I think we're officially on the way there.

I hit a milestone today.

I've been married half my life.

A lot can happen in half a lifetime...10 houses, 3 children, 7 cars, 6 dogs.

We've gone to bed angry a few times, though I think it's been years since I slept on the couch. We still have our misunderstandings from time to time, but not as often as before. And I'm still thrilled to see him come through the door after work.

Half a life and counting.

It's a great journey.