Table for Two

This is how we started out.

After I do’s were said, rice was thrown, gifts were opened, and a long white satin dress was cleaned and stored away.

In a small apartment with little to call our own, our table for two was sometimes the couch; an old wooden box we called a coffee table pulled close with two dinner plates on top.

We worked all week, we hung out together, ran errands, tried to exercise, watched TV, and just spent so much time together.

I can barely remember how that felt.

For about seven years, we just enjoyed being us.

Then we became a family. Life was never quite the same. The craziness and fun of new parenthood was so much better sharing it with someone I loved so much. I knew he would be such an amazing daddy and he was. Still is.

Seventeen years later, we sit more often at that table for two again.

Not the couch, but our massive dining-room table, made to seat a crowd.

Not just two.

Our son gone to college; his 13 year-old sister busy with soccer and BFF’s. This is what we hoped for, what we planned for, for all of those years in between. For our kids to be healthy, happy, busy, and doing what they wanted with their lives.

And they are.

And now when we are alone and the house is quiet, I am remembering so many reasons why I said yes all those years ago. Why it was so important to keep the you and I part right there with the mom and dad part.

Because eventually we are back at the table for two.

And I wouldn’t want to be sitting with anyone else.