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Today is our 24th wedding anniversary.

A couple weeks before I got married, my parents wanted me to come and play games, spend the night, have a last hurrah as a family of 3 before I officially added Mark to our little Circle of Trust. (Meet the Parents reference) 

I was living in Ashland for the summer because I was babysitting for a couple families in town.

Of course, I went and had a fun time, as I always did with my mom and dad. Lots of laughter, as usual.

But when it got late and it was time to think about going to bed, I started feeling “homesick.” For Mark and for Ashland. It was the first time I realized that my Norwalk home wasn’t MY home anymore. 

My dad drove me back to Ashland in a thunderstorm. (I do have to pause here to say that I would love to go back and just suck it up and stay all night. He must have been disappointed but he never let it show. He just happily drove me back, pointing out the lightning in the distance. Some things are just burned in your memory, ya know?)

It wasn’t just that Ashland was home now, it was that Mark was “home.”

Lots of people have been married for far longer than we have and have lots of wisdom to offer. And we’ve had lots of ups and downs, heartbreaks and joys, tears and anger, and everything in-between. 

But if I was to give advice to anyone searching for “the one,” I would say to find the person that feels like HOME no matter where you are.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

 When I was a kid, we spent almost every day and most weekends at Valley Beach, the pool in my town. My extended family had memberships, too, so that place holds a million memories of cookouts, swimming, games, and fun. 

One of my favorite things to do at Valley Beach was to do cartwheels, handstands, etc. off the diving boards. One summer, in particular, my dad was “coaching” me how to do the perfect dive. 

I can see him showing me how to keep my arms straight and telling me to point my toes, keep my legs straight and together…I took his words as gospel truth. I didn’t question it because he knew everything, in my mind. Of course he knew how to do the perfect dive.

I can vividly remember getting to the end of the diving board and checking to make sure he was watching from across the pool. I would meet his eyes, he would give me a nod, and I would do my dive. 

I would always resurface as quickly as I could so I could look over at him and get his “rating.” He was a fair judge. He would tell me if I needed to improve something, but when he was teaching me something, he wasn’t a parent who always had a criticism. With everything, there would always come a point when he would say, “That’s it. You got it, An. Just keep doing that.”

He would be 70 tomorrow. 

Since he’s been gone, his voice is in my ears everyday, replaying things that he taught me. And he taught me many things, from practical to things like throwing a football with a perfect spiral and how to shoot a BB gun and shoot a basketball.

But the biggest thing he taught me was to press on. That your past doesn’t define you. That trials come and life hurts in so many ways, but none of it can snatch me from my Lord’s hands.

He lived that way and he died that way. For however long I may live, I will strive to have the kind of blessed assurance and Faith that he had and “just keep doing that.”

Happy Birthday, daddy. I miss you every day.