Eight years ago, I married my best friend. It was a day much warmer than today that started out with storms, but ended with sunlight. Actually, it ended with cake and champagne and karaoke. It was a good day.
Eight years ago, I doubt we could have imagined our life as it is now.
Eight years ago, I thought driving a Saab was a priority. (Now I covet minivans)
Eight years ago, we had 2 dogs, 2 cats and lived 2 blocks from the beach.
Eight years ago, we were different people.
Four years ago, on the other side of the world, a baby was born. The baby was born to a woman that we don’t know. Her face, her personality–we have no clue, although I imagine we see glimpses of her everyday. She gave birth to a child that would later be our son.
Four years ago, South Korea was not on my personal radar.
Four years ago, I wasn’t even sure we would adopt.
Four years ago, I was consumed with being the mother of a 6-month old baby named Isaac.
Four years ago, I had never even heard of bulgogi.
But our youngest son was born that day.
Tonight we will celebrate it all–another year older for Matthew and another year together for his parents. Bulgogi for dinner. Something I am rather good at preparing, and to think, 4 years ago, I had never heard of it. Cake–gluten free cake, at that. We will celebrate family. Family around our table and family around the globe–known and unknown. We will celebrate surprises. Like saving for a minivan and finding your family in the most unexpected places.
Oh, you naive lovebirds, how could you ever have guessed it would be this good?