Since my last bit of blathering, a decent amount of living has gone on. In many ways I feel re-routed... or re-rooted.... I can't decide which one is more fitting, but somehow either homonym is fitting. On July 12th I got married to a wonderful man named Peter. We had an amazing weekend with perfect weather and so much laughter. I felt... enchanting.... like I could do nothing wrong and love abounded and the world sat on its proper axis. The sun shone, a light breeze blew, and there wasn't even a moment of humidity. It was, for all intense purposes, perfect.
It's been a big month. We sold our home and moved temporarily into a spare house that my parents' own. Peter returned west for a full medical in order to begin a new job. It was not a question or concern... or really, even an inkling that anything would be, well.... wrong. But there is.
Ava and I arrived Thursday in Edmonton around six in the evening. Peter picked us up at the airport, happy and relieved to have us near. We, because that's how it works now, have another doctor's appointment on Monday to find out what's next after finding out about high cholesterol (which really, when we thought about it, wasn't a surprise), and lung disease. While prone to slow progression, there is just something mildly enormous about those particular two words. Lung disease. But thankfully, I am the optimist out of the two of us and Peter is relieved to have me here. We're a team and we're both happy to have backup.
There are two of us in the room right now. One will be 11 months old tomorrow and has just had a gargantuan shit. When daddy wakes up we're going to the zoo. Our life is good... we just need to sort out the details.
A good marriage is at least 80 percent good luck in finding the right person at the right time. The rest is trust.