This picture of a ferry ride sixteen years ago is one of my most favorite shots, ever. It’s not a great shot or anything. But I felt so right, so in my element as a wife and mother on that day. Looking at it brings back every conviction and every joy.
We’ve been together for eighteen years.
I love my husband and the family we began all of those years ago.
Eighteen years means we didn’t give up. I’ve known him half of my life.
We grew up together. We kept things together.
To celebrate, we went to the beach, something we have strong memory attachment to.
These are some photos of the day, plus a few from days past.
This is what loving someone for eighteen years can do:
She’s seventeen now.
and little man is twelve.