this is for you.
   
About: 
Dear Steven, This season has already consumed us. The dimly lit tree in the corner of our grey living room - packages & gifts already cluttered beneath it. The sparkling lights anchored along the edges of our gutter. The countdown to the 25th fastened to our wall. Our first DIY Christmas cards & the presents for our parents. The chipper looking nutcracker nestled next to the TV. The holiday tunes, and the holiday flicks. And my favorite, the teaching our church kids all about Jesus Christ, and his birth in Bethlehem. Tradition making has arrived in full swing. Which, by the way, absolutely out does our heavy hearts that weighed the both of us down December of ‘10. This morning you had a minor surgery. And I mean minor. Easy, nothing to worry about - minor. However, the 4 hours in the waiting room, and the 7 hours of blue lips & in-and-out of consciousness afterward were definitely 11 hours that were too terrifying for me. Alone. And unsure of what to expect. Despite the terror, I found myself falling deeper into you with each tug I got from your weak hands, and each stroke through your unkempt hair. The kisses to your colorless, unresponsive lips, the responsibility to stabilize you as you tried to walk, and crawling into bed next to your scorching, limp body. Through it all, I felt more like your wife than I ever have. My spirit tethering to yours infallibly. While my spirit was broken this time (almost to the day) last year, the void that was created then, has not only been refilled, but it is brimming with strength. With healing. With renewal. I am so glad we kept on fighting.

Dear Steven,

This season has already consumed us. The dimly lit tree in the corner of our grey living room - packages & gifts already cluttered beneath it. The sparkling lights anchored along the edges of our gutter. The countdown to the 25th fastened to our wall. Our first DIY Christmas cards & the presents for our parents. The chipper looking nutcracker nestled next to the TV. The holiday tunes, and the holiday flicks. And my favorite, the teaching our church kids all about Jesus Christ, and his birth in Bethlehem. Tradition making has arrived in full swing. Which, by the way, absolutely out does our heavy hearts that weighed the both of us down December of ‘10.

This morning you had a minor surgery. And I mean minor. Easy, nothing to worry about - minor. However, the 4 hours in the waiting room, and the 7 hours of blue lips & in-and-out of consciousness afterward were definitely 11 hours that were too terrifying for me. Alone. And unsure of what to expect. Despite the terror, I found myself falling deeper into you with each tug I got from your weak hands, and each stroke through your unkempt hair. The kisses to your colorless, unresponsive lips, the responsibility to stabilize you as you tried to walk, and crawling into bed next to your scorching, limp body. Through it all, I felt more like your wife than I ever have. My spirit tethering to yours infallibly.

While my spirit was broken this time (almost to the day) last year, the void that was created then, has not only been refilled, but it is brimming with strength. With healing. With renewal. I am so glad we kept on fighting.

  1. karlee-boyd reblogged this from dearstevencraige
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  3. endpunkten reblogged this from ntima and added:
    “I am so glad we kept on fighting.”beautiful. I want this back.
  4. dearnicy reblogged this from dearstevencraige
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