It's so close to being spring. So close. We heard (and saw!) Sandhill Cranes flying overhead today. That always means that spring is soon, but not quite yet.
This time of year, Willis gets the itch to grill, and sometimes, I can suck it up and sit outside with him. I couldn't do it today. I did it yesterday, but it's just a little chillier today. (We woke up, and there was fat snow falling and accumulation on the ground.)
But, sitting in here, looking at him through the (disgustingly dirty—we have kids and a gross dog, and my priorities don't involve constantly cleaning this) window, and seeing him out there reminded me of something. I like him. It sounds odd to say it out loud, but everyone knows you are supposed to love your spouse. You're called to love when you marry. It's biblical and stuff. I actually like him, though. A lot. Like, if I met him again right now and had never met him before, I'd still really like him. I'd be like, "That guy, Willis (or Andrew, or whatever his name would be that day)? I like him."
When I met him in college, there was something about him that made me think, "This guy is 20-going-on-40, and he's such a dork," and I loved it. I'm such a flake, something in me craved the order I knew this guy would provide naturally (not by rule of law or whatever), but he is also so fun-loving. I can't help but to truly believe in divine intervention with this match. I couldn't have planned it better, myself.
So many times, I pray that my kids will have this same connection and divine intervention. I know that things don't always happen they way we hope or want, but if connection happens, I hope it's like ours.
