28 years ago, on May 31, 1997, I married my best friend. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, exactly seven years after we became a couple.
It started on May 31, 1990, on our 8th grade field trip to Mackinac Island. We were on the same bus. His friend, Aaron, asked me for him if I would “go out with him (my hubby).” He said he was scared of getting shot down, so he had Aaron ask. Not sure where we would go, but I said, “Sure!” So, to seal the deal, I gave him my black braided bracelet and he gave me his watch. We didn’t see each other the rest of the day until the bus ride home. We have been inseparable since.
So many things I want to say and remember and acknowledge about my best friend. Where do I start…
I’ll start by saying every day is a gift. Whether we are in a struggle or in a high, every day is a gift that we are given. The more life experience I earn, the more I realize this and try not to take it for granted.
We didn’t always do things the right way before our ceremony. I see now that the Lord’s gracious hand was upon us then as it is now. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to recognize it then. So thankful in so many ways.
We started in an apartment in Grand Rapids. We lived on the top floor (third) and we only made one trip. One trip with groceries on both arms. One trip with laundry piled over our heads. One trip with you name it…we were not going to waste trips. We utilized the sidewalks in town for nightly walks, jogging, rollerblading and biking. We took up tennis at the local courts and golf at the nearest Par 3. He was finishing college and working two jobs. I was working full time. We rode around in a white Sunbird convertible.
In 1999 we bought our first one-bedroom home in Newaygo. Added a dog for craziness. By this point hubby had graduated and was working full time for a food service company in Grand Rapids and I was going to college full time while working part time. We still continued to do things together. While he fixed the cars, I sat and read a book in the garage or painted my nails while we talked. While working on house projects, I would hand him tools and be his gopher, “go for this, go for that.” We signed up for a coed softball league that played under the lights in Grand Rapids. We would then commute back to our home in Newaygo late at night in order to get up and do it all over again. This new chapter brought many learning curves. Some extremely difficult and some funny. One of those learning curves was to never purchase a Christmas tree from a dairy farm…the aroma is on the needles and therefore in your home.
After five years of marriage and a lot of challenges in marital and personal growth, I graduated from college and we knew it was time to start a family. Our oldest was born in 2003, after almost six years of just the two of us. We didn’t realize how selfish we were until that little guy came. We had six years of no bedtimes, no meal times and no need for a pack mule. The Lord decided to “fill our quiver” and four more were added by the end of 2011.
During these years, we became followers of Jesus together. Growing in spiritual health together. Being baptized together (I was eight months pregnant with our third). Transforming together. Growing together in general as life changes. The older I get, the more I realize changing together is imperative.
In 2016 we wanted to be debt free, so we sold our then four-bedroom house after 17 years of memories, moved in with my mom and bought a 100-year-old farmhouse that needed to be completely gutted. During Thanksgiving weekend, 2018, we moved into that farmhouse that allowed us to become debt free after many years of sacrifice and hard work. That was the same year I recorded a year full of thanksgivings in a special journal for him. A small token of all the small and big offerings he had given to me and our family.
We still continue to try to do as many things as possible together even with all of our craziness. Creating memories and laughing together. Currently we are building a deck together, listening to music, dancing (okay just me) while handing him tools/items. Talking about the kids, retirement and Jesus.
We take the role of helpmate with importance. He opens his dresser drawers and finds the “laundry fairy” came and replenished his drawers with clean clothes. I turn my key in the truck and the “truck fairy” has not only put gas in my truck but has changed the brake pads and rotors.
This guy isn’t big on words, but I know he loves me deeply. He texts me “here beautiful” when he gets to work. He calls me at lunch time to hear my crazy voice and dares to ask what craziness is going on in my brain at the moment. He goes on walks with me while I spill the day. I process things out loud and he listens. He holds my hand in public. He opens doors for me. He squeezes me, kisses me and pats my bum in front of the kids. During my three major surgeries and adrenal crash he played both the roles of dad and mom. During the cancer years of caring for my dad and my mom he was patient with me. Holding me while I cried uncontrollably and yelled with anger. I know he loves me deeply because he prays over me and our family while I am trying to open my eyes in the morning.
I also want to mention our codes. We had and still do have codes as a way of communicating. Secret codes that no one else knows but us. Just the two of us.
Every day is a gift and I am so very blessed and grateful.
Happy 28, sweetheart.
I am ONE story,
~ Kristy