There were days where nothing exciting happened (and I use exciting loosely). But April 8, 2017 was one of those days. Google Photos reminds me that the kids played in the basement in the morning and we met with friends in the afternoon. My text messages with Matt remind me that I went for a run. Ordinary. The outline of a normal life. Which was why it was so hard to believe things had changed because sometimes things could feel so gloriously boring.
I used to be afraid of boring.
Our relationship was always busy. The excitement of falling in love turned into the excitement of moving in together. Just as that glow faded, we got engaged, then married. Then, before that could get old, we got pregnant. We house hunted. Then G was born via emergency c-section nine weeks early and lived in the NICU for eight weeks. We house hunted again, this time putting in a bid on a home after seeing only one other. We got pregnant again and H was born just twenty months after G.
Our relationship was marked with speed and snap decisions. I called it “the frenzy”…once we made a decision to act, nothing could stop us. We were always busy, always pushing forward through the stages of life like we were in some rush.
I wonder sometimes if it was fate or intuition or something else that led us to rush through phases. Could some part of us have known our time was limited? It’s a question for which I will never have an answer. But I am grateful for “the frenzy.” If we hadn’t rushed into having kids, G and H wouldn’t have gotten the time with their dad that they did; if we hadn’t rushed into buying a forever home, we wouldn’t have found the amazing community that we did.
I used to ask Matt what we would do when we were done, once we had our two kids and our forever home and no new phases left to reach for. What would throw us into a “frenzy?”Would we be bored? Remembering that question now guts me because the answer is cancer. That’s what we would do.