Mike and I have a shared dream. In that dream, we live in a condo in our local downtown neighborhood. In that dream, we go to happy hour or dinner at our favorite restaurants whenever we want. In that dream, he works at a job he loves and I have a writing room in our home that overlooks Main Street. In that dream, our child(ren) are grown and off at college or pursuing their life’s passions.
We talk about it a lot. We pass by the perfect row home and we sigh and laugh as our two boys – one biological and one foster – play and fight and screech in the backseat. We know our dream is ages away. And yet, we know that when we finally get there, we will look back on these years as the best of our lives.
We are not in a rush to get through it, he and I. We simply have a dream.
As brand new foster parents, Mike and I have been through the parenting ringer the past couple of months. And yes, our marriage has been through the ringer, as well. There have been too many nights of one of us asleep on the couch while the other is wanting to discuss. Too many nights where a time crunch has meant that wrapping up work must taken precedence over connecting. Too many nights where dinner, bedtime and a quick recap of the day is all we can muster before we each mentally switch off.
It’s ok; Mike and I are fine. In fact, I think he and I would each weirdly describe our marriage as “stronger than ever” because although we have weathered challenges in the past, we have truly learned this year that no matter what we encounter, we can and will conquer it together.
All this is to say: I’m thankful to have this guy in my life. A guy with a heart bigger than any other I’ve ever seen. A guy who displays endless amounts of love and patience with our kids. A guy who faces every challenge with a positive attitude. A guy I want to grow old with in a downtown condo overlooking the shops of Main Street.
I love you, Mike. Happy Father’s Day.