Ten years ago, on January 20, 2016, I sat down next to a handsome stranger at the bar at Lou Malnatti’s Pizza on Jefferson Ave in Naperville, IL, instead of sitting with anyone in the writers’ group I had just met. Twenty-two days later, on February 12, 2016, we eloped at the courthouse in Nashville, where this handsome stranger lived. It’s now been 10 years, so for all those who bet against us, it’s time to pay up!
Last year, when I was telling some students this story after relationship expert and researcher Ty Tashiro presented in one of my upper-level psychology classes, a student asked me how I had known my future husband would be a good man. There were many things that night when I first met Heath that I was attracted to, but what I told the student was that it came down to three things: 1) He teared up when talking about his dog, Lana, who was had died from cancer a few years prior; 2) He had a curiosity for knowledge and read more books than anyone else I had ever met; 3) He didn’t enjoy his job but he was giving it 110% anyway.
Ten years later, Heath has shown me time and time again that I wasn’t wrong. Of course, there’s so much more to him than those three characteristics! So, without further ado, here’s my updated list of 10 specific things that I love about Heath:
When we walk around Waneka Lake together, he always heads to the Free Little Library to see what treasures he’ll find.
As a surprise for 2026, he made me a day-by-day calendar that features snapshots from our life together.
He believes in my writing so much that sometimes he calls me Stephanie King, and he also insists that when my books do get published, I have to get special edition embellished versions made just for him.
He wants to befriend a murder of crows, and he’s already picked out names for some of them, including Carl, Steve, and Hippocrates.
He bought us a bird bath for our backyard to make it more hospitable for wildlife.
He sat at the table the other day, watched some squirrels for about 10 minutes, and then declared, “Squirrels are hilarious.”
When I gave him the “Guess the Book Title” holiday game from my Romancing the Tropes book club holiday party, not only did he play the game once, but when he realized these were actual published books, he asked to play again so he could put more effort into it.*
When I went down with the flu in December, the day before my niece arrived for the holidays, Heath took the day that she arrived off from work, picked her up at the airport, and then spent the entire day with her in Boulder so I wouldn’t have to worry about them.
Even though I have not yet kept my promise of watching one violent movie a month with him (provided it’s during the afternoon and not evening), he doesn’t give me too hard a time about it.
This is an oldie, but goodie and has been on my list before: 10 years in, and no matter how many times I pick up a banana, say hello, and then hand it to Heath, he says hello and pretends to have a conversation with someone.
Happy Anniversary, Heath! I’m so glad we found each other.
February 7. 2016
*If anyone would like the answer key to this game, please let me know. Also, shout out to Vanessa in my book club who created it!
One aspect of my mental health that I’ve worked on with my therapist over the years is “sphere of control.” Essentially, one needs to ask what is in their control and what is not in their control, and then live their life accordingly.
This concept is how I was able to still feel motivated to cross off one of my 25 in 25 goals last weekend despite the chaos and turmoil in the United states as of late, including higher education (you may recall I returned to college teaching this past year).
Because I’m already doing everything I can, which includes calling my senators and representatives multiple times per week (my latest phone call was about library and museum funding being cut), and donating money to people who are fighting the good fight, the only thing left for me is to continue living my life in the best way possible because now is not the time to give in to despair. So I will keep doing the things that bring me joy on a regular basis, and that includes 1) achieving goals (or working towards my goals); 2) going on adventures with Heath; and 3) adventures that are specifically road trips.
So last weekend, Heath and I drove approximately three hours northeast to visit Nebraska. Prior to last weekend, Nebraska was one of three states I had yet to visit and now that we live close enough for a weekend trip, it seemed like the right time to visit.
Originally, I thought we would drive to the state line, have a look around, go out for lunch, and then head back. But, an internet search of national parks in Nebraska showed that there was a National Monument called Scott’s Bluff close enough that it could be a part of our road trip.
We left after a rather leisurely Saturday morning and arrived in Scott’s Bluff with enough time to hike the Saddle Rock Trail before the park closed at sunset.
Because of everything that’s been going on in our lives, Heath and I were so tired by the time we got to the hotel that we fell asleep around 7:30 p.m. Consequently, we woke up really early. Heath, in fact, got up much earlier than I did and went to hang out in the hotel lounge area. When I woke up, it was still quite dark outside, but I checked the sunrise time on my weather app and sent Heath a quick text message asking if he would be up for taking a sunrise hike on one of the Scotts Bluff trails.
It was beautiful and brisk (maybe too brisk for Heath) and filled with bunnies! Seriously. These aren’t the best photos because of how the bunnies blend in, but I’m going to share them anyway.
Up until recently, Nebraska had a state slogan that was, “Nebraska, honestly it’s not for everyone!” This slogan sells Nebraska short, particularly for Scott’s Bluff, because Nebraska is definitely for bunnies and it’s definitely a place worth visiting.
We also found this little cafe called The Mixing Bowl that served up a breakfast so scrumptious (I got salmon eggs Benedict and a specialty drink called the Nebraska Sunrise that included OJ and pomegranate juice) that we returned for lunch before heading back to Colorado.
What was especially great about the cafe is we got to chat with the wait staff and the owner’s mom who shared with us that she and her husband weren’t sure that their daughter could make it as a chef/restauranteur because the business is so tough. The daughter, who had been trained at a culinary institute in Denver, didn’t let that stop her and her parents finally came around. Not only is the cafe doing well, but it’s thriving enough that they want to take over the building next door.
If you ever find yourself in Gering, NE, I highly recommend eating at The Mixing Bowl. You won’t regret it.
Our weekend away ended up being a wonderful time and I can’t wait for the next one. It probably won’t be until May because the week after next I’m heading to Norfolk for a few days to meet Annie Jr. and then Heath is off Valley Forge, PA, for Super Billiards Expo in April.
In case you need a reminder of who Annie is
There’s lots to look forward to and that’s what I need right now. It’s also one of the few things I can control.
Happy travels, everyone! Especially within your sphere of control.
On January 20, 2016, I felt so taken by these tracks crossing in the snow that I posted them on Instagram. Little did I know that very evening, my path would cross with my future husband for the first time ever.
Heath and I have now been together for nine years and married for nine years. While I do not recommend anyone else follow our 22-day whirlwind from meeting to elopement, it somehow worked for us.
At the courthouse in Nashville
So you can imagine my delight on this our ninth wedding anniversary, that I should be greeted by these tracks in the snow right in front of our house.
The house that we were never sure we would find, in a place we didn’t know if we would be able to stay, at a time when we were so exhausted of our nomadic life and ready for stability that we had no idea if anything was going to work out.
All to say, Congratulations to us! I’m sure most people thought we wouldn’t last nine months, let alone nine years. It hasn’t been easy and it hasn’t always been fun. Yet here we are still standing strong and I love Heath more today than ever.
To celebrate our anniversary, here are nine specific things I love about Heath.
He immediately understands my annoyance when I say, “They’re singing in The Hobbit ” (The book, not the movie, which I only read for the first time this past January and I am now listening to for the third time as my bedtime story).
When we had to trap a mouse during one of our housesits in Boulder last year and relocate it to a field far away, Heath put a scoop of trail mix in the mousetrap so they would have good food to eat during a traumatic time.
Heath was super excited to get a whiteboard in our basement so he could keep track of pool statistics, but then generously gave me one-third of the board for my Fergus doodles.
4. He fully participates in my enthusiasm and joy over our daily WeRateDogs calendar.
This may be the best rating of all time, not the least of which is because this dog looks SO MUCH like Fergus.
5. Anytime I show him a video of my pull-up training, he makes encouraging and inspiring statements.
6. Never once has he complained about the sheer number of times I’ve watched Annie Jr. videos on YouTube – yes, that’s right! My good friend Annie is getting a sidekick who I’ve been calling Annie Jr. for the time being. You can view a video of Annie Jr. here:
Here’s Annie, Sr., (left) with Fergus (right) if you need reminders:
7. Even though he thinks it’s disgusting that I’m using one of our glassware bowls to feed wildlife in our backyard (sadly, Patches the cat never returned after our brief love affair), he still hasn’t asked me to stop doing it.
8. When I accidentally shaved his head too close to his scalp back in November, he didn’t get mad at all. Which I appreciated and, also, because when he accidentally shaved his head too close to his scalp four weeks later, we laughed for a very long time.
9. In December, I sent out around 60 Christmas cards. Heath was tired and stressed from work and he still signed every single card that I asked him to in a timely.
Happy Anniversary, Heath! Here’s to the next nine.
This past Sunday, Heath and I celebrated our 7-year wedding anniversary.
Some days I wake up and still can’t believe I’m married! The moment Heath and I met was such a surprise; the very essence of the word serendipity. I wouldn’t change anything about our love story and I’m so grateful to live it every day.
As I reflect on our seventh year, I can’t help but think of lucky number seven. I don’t know what that means exactly for a marriage, but I do know that with a lot of changes coming with this new chapter in our life as our Norfolk housesit ends after 6.5 years, I’ll take any and all luck given to us.
Happy Anniversary, Heath! In the spirit of our anniversary, here are seven specific things you do that I love:
1. Let Fergus sleep on your head.
2. Say “pay the toll,” as you pat Annie on the head while stepping over her.
I couldn’t find any pictures with Annie sitting on the steps; this is the closest one I have where she’s at least near the steps.
3. Sing silly songs you make up when playing around on the guitar.
4. Stop by the library while I’m working just to say hello.
5. Spritz and water your plants with the utmost care and concern for their growth.
6. Sit with me at the table even when you’re not eating.
7. Laugh at my daily doodles on the dry erase board.
Heath locked himself out of the house a few weeks ago. I drew this doodle that morning.
Heath does so many daily, little things to let me know how much he loves me. He also says thank you often and accepts my apologies graciously. I am grateful to know him and love him and to be loved in return.
I think about death often. I’m sure many people do.
Sometimes the thoughts are with fear of the unknown. Having been raised Catholic, I’ve experienced more than enough trauma at literal interpretations of hell, and if I could change one thing about this world it would probably be not to scare children with eternal damnation. They have enough to worry about these days with gun violence, pandemic lives, climate destabilization, racism, and a dysfunctional government that includes politicians who make it clear that some of them (ie, BIPOC, queer, disabled) are worth less than others.
Occasionally I think about death with wonder. That’s usually when I’m in a good place spiritually. Those days are few and far between lately, and I suspect it’s from chronic stress due to poor sleep, capitalism that requires people to work to have quality health insurance, and lack of affordable housing in Connecticut.
Since my dad died in 2020, some thoughts of death are often linked with incredulity. He was literally alive one minute and dead the next. That’s it? I think. His life is now over?
Mostly I think about death with the fear of missing out, especially because it’s been seven years since Heath and I met, and I want as many years as possible to be with him.
My annual death meditation is different from all this kind of thinking. Its purpose is to reflect on how I spent my past year and to determine what I want to prioritize in 2023.
In 2022 I decided colorful creativity would be my theme. I would create art that was not the written word, which is usually how I express myself. I wanted to draw and paint with no purpose other than to have fun!
While I got off to a good start, my year did not go as planned.
Thanks to the pandemic and us being housesitters, we moved 8 times in 2022. From February – May, my art supplies were tucked away in a storage closet growing dusty.
Even when I had access, I didn’t have the motivation. I’ve accumulated more in these past six and a half years than I ever thought possible. The days of hoping I could get all my possessions down to one backpack is no longer realistic. With the increase of my own stuff, it’s gotten harder to live among other people’s lives. Especially when one has chronic sleep issues like I do.
I am not okay with the chronic sleep issues, and I continue to do my best to live with them.
I’m mostly okay with the stuff I’ve accumulated. We’ve been living in Norfolk for almost 6.5 years and I suppose that’s to be expected. And I’m going to have an opportunity soon to reduce and recycle some of the stuff I’ve accumulated. I will be ruthless and it will be fun!
Heath and I find ourselves at a crossroads. The couple we’ve been house-sitting for in Norfolk since September 2016 are permanently moving home. We will be living through big changes this year and we aren’t exactly sure what those changes are yet going to look like.
When I think about 2023 and imagine it’s my last year on Earth, for the first time since I’ve been death meditating, I’ve got nothing! There is nothing that I want to prioritize. No goals that I want to achieve. No places to visit. No relationships to hone. I just want to make it through this year of transition and come out still able to breathe. So that’s what I’m going to do. This year is going to be my year of breathing.
The best part is I have to do it anyway! I might as well do it with intention to help navigate all the uncertainty we’re up against.
Heath and I finally got around to celebrating my birthday. Taking vitamin D and iron, as well as tapering down my recently prescribed narcolepsy medicine to the lowest possible dose has helped tremendously with my energy levels. So I *finally* felt up for a day out!
We started with driving to West Farms mall in West Hartford to visit the YogiBo store. One of Heath’s greatest joys in life is stretching out on a couch to relax and watch TV and movies. Because he’s so tall, there aren’t many couches that afford him this comfort. We’re also still housesitting in Norfolk (going on six years!) and so the living room furniture is not ours to replace. So we’re limited in what we can do.
A few weeks ago, I had the idea to Google “couch alternatives.” Up popped the website for Yogibo. Heath agreed that it could be a solution for his desire to stretch out. We were then thrilled to discover Yogibo is not just a website – they have stores throughout the Northeast. We decided to head there on my next day off.
Wow, that store is fun! We came home with a Yogibo Max and Support, and we’ve both been enjoying them this last week or so.
Next, Heath and I headed to Dee’s One Smart Bakery in Glastonbury to pick up my birthday cookie cake. Dee’s in an allergy-free bakery. Neither of us have food allergies; we simply find these baked goods superior to any others in Connecticut.
Since there’s a Whole Foods across the street from Dee’s, we stopped there for lunch at their hot bar. I don’t know what they put into their mac n’ cheese that’s so delicious, but it’s some of the best I’ve ever eaten.
We then returned home to watch many episodes of Friends. I’ve seen the show multiple times whereas Heath had only seen a handful of episodes. My favorite part of watching it is hearing him laugh and say, “It’s so stupid.” Friends is a stupid, silly show and that’s why I love it – it’s pure entertainment that reminds me of my younger years.
This birthday celebration included nothing special or fancy. But it was exactly what I wanted – feeling mostly awake spending time with the person I love most in this world doing things that bring me joy. May the year be filled with more of the same.
A few weeks ago, I led a TED Talks discussion group using Candy Chang’s talk, Before I die, I want to…. You can watch the TED Talk here.
Two of my discussion questions were:
How would you fill in the blank — Before I die I want to __________?
How would your answer change if you knew you only had one year left to live? What about one week? One day?
A lively discussion ensued. One gem of wisdom shared by a participant was that a year was a luxurious amount of time. How grand to know you have a full year ahead of you!
Juxtapose that idea with the basic premise of Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, whereby the average human lifespan is only four thousand weeks. Four thousand does not seem nearly enough.
Since the reality is we really don’t know how much time we have left, I take time every year to reflect on my own death. This practice helps me ensure that no matter what happens, I know what’s important to me, which in turn, helps me make decisions in both the short- and long-term for living my best life. Previous death meditations inspired me to quit my tenured position as an associate professor of psychology, to volunteer for seven weeks at a science center in sub-Arctic Canada so I could see polar bears in the wild, and to recognize that my perfect day includes time for rest, self-care, being with loved ones (and a dog), some play, and some productivity.
This year, I reflected on my death while at a winter solstice sunset meditation program at Naumkeag. Naumkeag is a beautiful house in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, set on a rolling hill with the Berkshire Mountains as its backdrop.
Picture taken on Autumn Equinox in 2021.
Having been there before, I knew Naumkeag is a magical place. What made the night even more magical is the house and grounds glowed with thousands of colorful lights as part of their winter lights festival. I could not have asked for a more perfect place to reflect on my past year and find inspiration for living my best life in 2022.
2021 was a hard year for me. The grief of losing family, friends, and dogs in 2020 carried over, as did the uncertainty of the pandemic. Add to that a terrorist attack on the US capital in January, a constantly mutating virus because not enough people are vaccinated, and a debilitating sleep disorder that has been getting progressively worse for years, which, in my opinion was so stressful it reactivated a shingles infection in my body in August, and I’ve got a year that really sucked at times.
And yet, because I’ve taken time in the past to consider my time and mortality, I also experienced a pretty wonderful 2021. I have never been more in love with Heath than I am today.
He is an amazing teammate, best friend, and husband. A lot of times when I panic that I’m 44 and if I live to the same age as my dad then I only have 30 years left, the panic is because I feel like that is not enough time to love Heath. Since there is literally NOTHING I can do about my eventual death, my way forward is clear: just love Heath to the best of my ability each and every day.
Last year, I also had a dog fall asleep on my head! Best. Day. Ever.
In those moments, as Fergus snoozed away, I thought I might explode with joy. I also thought I might never be able to move again, because I couldn’t bear to wake the little guy up.
Knowing how dogs have a special place in my heart, I mostly kept up with my twice weekly walks with Annie. Even in my darkest days of sleep and health challenges, being with Annie in the woods was a wonderful tonic which helped me keep going.
2021 is also the year that I learned how to write a novel on my phone. In my work at the Norfolk Library, I led a program on habit formation using James Clear’s Atomic Habits book. From his insights and practices, I finally let go of wanting to be a person with a habit of jumping out of the bed first thing in the morning. That kind of habit is impossible for me when I feel severely sleep deprived and depressed due to narcolepsy. Instead I used the techniques and information to develop a habit of writing on my phone, which makes a lot of sense considering how often I use my phone and how my phone is almost always within arm’s reach. Six months and over 37,000 words later, I now have the first draft of a middle grade novel that is just waiting for revision.
I also spent a lot of time querying agents in 2021. I received several requests for full manuscripts or more work. Although I was not offered representation, I did receive personalized rejections, some with encouragement to keep going. It’s not what I hoped for, but I’m certainly not giving up now.
In reflecting on 2021, one area of my life other than sleep also seemed out of balance: my work life. When I quit teaching in 2016, I never wanted to work full-time again. The hours and stress of working full-time did not seem possible while also trying to prioritize my sleep health.
In the beginning of 2020, I worked 12 hours at the Norfolk library and 10 hours for the Congregational Church. That combination seemed perfect for my personal and professional goals. By the end of 2020, I was working 35 hours a week — 25 for the library and 10 for the church. I needed to work 25 hours at the library so that after 1 year at those hours, I would be eligible for health insurance. During 2020, our market place health insurance monthly premium went from $60 a month with state assistance to $1,069 a month with no assistance.
Perhaps if I didn’t experience downward-spiraling narcolepsy symptoms in 2021, I may have been able to sustain a 35 hour a week work schedule. Unfortunately, my sleep health was so poor in 2021 that I knew I couldn’t continue working this way. I made the difficult decision to resign from my position at the church. I will still volunteer for various church initiatives, since they have such a wonderful presence in Norfolk and beyond. But I now have the discretion to say no when I am simply too tired.
Which brings me to 2022 — How do I want to live differently, if I knew 2022 would be my last year?
The answer to that question came almost immediately while I was at Naumkeag. On that cold dark Night, we were led through a rainbow tunnel of lights.
During that walk the words colorful creativity popped into my head. I knew the instant I heard myself say those words that my creativity is missing an important component. So much of my creativity goes to writing: I write for my job at the library; I write for the Norfolk Now monthly newspaper; I wrote for the church. I also write in my free time in hopes of being a traditionally published author someday.
What I don’t do is use my creativity simply for fun. I don’t create for play. I don’t create simply to create. There is always a purpose. That stops in 2022.
This year, my year of colorful creativity, I will prioritize using color in creative ways. I never have considered myself a visually artistic person. I think that’s an important point. I am choosing to spend some of my time on artistic endeavors that have no higher goal, other than to simply create something colorful.
I find this idea both exciting and terrifying. I feel excited because it’s something new and different. It’s terrifying for a few reasons. One, I still think of myself as a minimalist and I’ve already bought some art supplies which creates cognitive dissonance with my minimalistic values. So that’s something I’m reconciling as I go down my colorful creativity path. Two, I know how precious time is. It’s terrifying to give up some of my writing time or otherwise free time to play. I don’t have to worry about giving up time with Heath because we know have art dates every Monday.
We’ll see how it goes. I decided to get a head start on my year of colorful creativity and made before the official start of 2022.
I call it Polar Nights. Here’s to more colorful creativity in 2022!
I’m glad it’s Thanksgiving this week, because it gives me a ready-made topic to write about: Top 10 Things I’m Grateful for This Year.
My husband, Heath. This year has been another challenging one, particularly with sleep issues. Heath is a constant source of unconditional love and support. The last time I struggled this much with my sleep, I was single. I eventually improved, so I know I have it in me to stay the course with my health as a single person. But I’m incredibly grateful I don’t have to.
DOGS! Speaking of unconditional love and support, dogs are also up there at the top of my list. Dogs bring me such joy! I can’t imagine my life without them. This point leads me to …
The people who let me love their dogs. This will be my first full year since 2013 that I did not live with one or more dogs. It’s been an adjustment to say the least, and I still find myself tearing up every now and again when I think of my furry friends I’ve lost along the way. So an extra special thank you to those people who ask me to take care of their dogs and love them like they’re my own.
My mom. She is one of the most generous people I know. The only way my mom could get even better is if she got a dog.
My best friend, Arlene. I met Arlene while on sabbatical in Chapel Hill, NC, in 2014. Arlene is almost 40 years older than me, and that doesn’t matter in the slightest. We understand each other, and every Thursday I call her. Sometimes we don’t chat, and I just leave a message. But we always know to expect a phone call on Thursdays at 11:30am.
My BFF Michelle. Michelle and I have been friends for maybe 17 years now. We can’t really nail down the date of when we went from being grad school acquaintances to good friends. The pandemic, however, changed everything. We experienced a Frien-essance (the friend version of a Renaissance) this year through Zoom and that’s one of my silver linings of the pandemic. Also shoutout to Beth, who often joins us on our Zooms. I’m grateful my friendship with her has gotten deeper this year, too.
My TPEP friends. These are the friends I made when working for the Tobacco, Prevention, and Evaluation Program way back in the mid 00s when I worked in the Department of Family Medicine, UNC School of Medicine as a research assistant. I doubt I will ever have such a dynamic and fun group of friends at work. We stay in touch a few times a year and I love them all SO MUCH!
My imagination and creativity. These are my two greatest natural gifts. Because of my imagination and creativity, I am never at a loss when writing a story. In fact, I often have too many stories to write, and then have to choose which ones to write and which ones to let go. As a first world problem, I’ll take it!
My mentors. There are some people in this world, such as Dr. Al Forsyth and his wife Peggy, and Dr. Adam O. Goldstein, who believe in me no matter. They’ve each contributed their own way to the person I am today.
My improving sleep. Friends, I am cautiously optimistic in telling you that my narcolepsy medicine is working. I am no longer waking up every morning experiencing post-traumatic stress from my dreams. I no longer need a nap at 8:30am and again at 4:00pm. I am not heading straight to the couch after I wake up. I feel so different these mornings as of late, that sometimes I don’t even know what to do with myself.
As I was writing this list, I realized that Top 10 is too limiting. I immediately wanted to make it a Top 20, then Top 50. For brevity’s sake, I’ll stop here. Kinda. Because now I’m going to give a few honorable mentions: My niece, who is brilliant and creative, my writing group, who is AWESOME, the Norfolk Library, who provides AMAZING health insurance even though I only work part-time, my productivity club, where we provide unconditional support to each other, Ruth, who reads my blog regularly and is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, Dottie, who gives the best hugs in Norfolk, and Jeannine and Jeff, who continue to make me laugh.
There are so many more people and things I could list. I’m really going to stop now. At least for now.
Yesterday I turned 43 and this blog turned 4. The amount of joy I feel on any given birthday can be hit or miss.
I’ve celebrated some birthdays in the most wonderful ways, surrounded by friends or family.
Four years ago, on the day this blog was born (and my first birthday married), Heath surprised me with the one thing I asked for: a birthday party with the animals wearing party hats. We were housesitting in Johnsonville, NY, for the summer and the animals included dogs, cats, and goats.
Only the dogs wore actual hats to the party. The cats and goats smiled for Heath’s camera and then Heath photoshopped the appropriate party wear onto those pictures.
Other years, particularly my first few in Illinois, I spent my birthday alone. On those birthdays, I sat alone on my couch. An occasional text or phone call would come in. Sometimes, I responded and sometimes I didn’t. Because in those times of loneliness it can be hard to accept long-distance birthday wishes when all you want is someone right there next to you.
This birthday, I am not alone. I am with my mom and brother. They made my favorite cake – butterscotch!
Heath showered me with treats on Thursday night before I drove to Pennsylvania on Friday, including surprising me with vegan bacon cheesy fries from Arles & Boggs, my favorite restaurant, located in Wallingford, CT. Wallingford is 65-miles one way from Norfolk, so this was quite the commitment from Heath. He then made a trip to Dee’s One Smart Cookie, an allergen-free bakery in Glastonbury, to get me gluten-free chocolate chip sandwich cookies. They’re a favorite sweet indulgence of mine and I enjoyed every bite of them.
I also received multiple birthday cards in the mail. Dozens of social media birthday greetings and text messages blew up my phone. I spoke with friends and family on the phone, some for over an hour. It was a perfect birthday.
And, yet … this birthday of mine has been underscored with sadness. On July 19th, my father died of complications from Guillain-Barre syndrome. Then, on July 23rd, Smudge had to be unexpectedly put down. It is a lot of loss and grief to experience, especially during a time of pandemic when there is already so much stress and uncertainty bubbling around us.
This birthday is an excellent example of the duality of life in which my therapist has been working with me over the past few weeks. Yes, it was a perfect birthday. Yes, I feel sad. Both can be true.
I don’t really have much more to say right now.
Thank you to everyone who made this is a perfect birthday.
Heath and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary a few weeks ago. For those of you who haven’t heard the story of how we met, fell in love, and eloped three weeks later, you can read it here. It’s a story I enjoy telling and not a day goes by that I don’t Thank God for ignoring societal norms and doing what I believed in my heart was the right thing to do.
Our Wedding, February 12th, 2016, Nashville Courthouse
This year we decided to celebrate by going out to lunch. I posted on Facebook asking for suggestions. One of my friends recommended that we try a restaurant in Mystic, CT, and then head to the Mystic Seaport Museum to see The Turner Watercolor Exhibit. People around Norfolk have been talking about this exhibit for weeks. It seemed like a good idea and we haven’t been on any grand adventures lately, so we decided to make that our anniversary outing.
If you’re unfamiliar (as I was), J.M.W. Turner (1775-1851) was a master watercolorist, who painted a lot of maritime seascapes. His collection is permanently on display at the Tate Museum in London and this exhibit is the first time some of his pieces have been on tour. Before stopping at Mystic, which is the only North American stop, the collection was exhibited in Rome, Buenos Aries, and Santiago. Up next will be Paris.
If you’re thinking one of these cities is not like the others, you’d be right. Except when the Mystic Seaport Museum designed and built the Thompson Exhibition Building (opened in 2016), they specifically wanted to create a building worthy of a Turner. So there’s something to be said for aiming high and acting on your dreams.
Anyway, Heath and I drove the nearly two hours to Mystic. We had lunch and then hit the exhibit. And to be quite honest, I was underwhelmed. Sure, I can look at Turner’s pictures and see beauty in them. And the light in some of them was outstanding. But I didn’t feel any sort of joy that I usually do with watercolor. Here’s the one I liked best from the exhibit:
In hindsight, I think I got caught up in the fear of missing out. Never before exhibited! Only one stop in North America! Last week of the exhibit!
Compare our Turner experience to the one Heath and I had yesterday. It was the first day of Winter Weekend in Norfolk, a town-wide festival celebrating all things Norfolk. We signed up for a Clay Play experience at Botelle Elementary, sponsored by the Norfolk NET Makerspace and hosted by the Botelle Elementary art teacher. Essentially, we were given a hunk of clay and told we could do whatever we want with it.
Not having a good imagination for what I could do with clay, I watched what others were doing. I ended up making a cup. I then branched out to making a pet rock. And a Kelly Was Here stone for that inevitable day when we leave Norfolk. My plan is to leave the stone in the woods somewhere so I’ll always know a physical piece of me will be here.
Such simple creations and yet I was thrilled with the outcomes!
We also had a blast listening to great music, getting to know the other participants, sharing our funniest food poisoning stories (not sure how we got on that topic), and just laughing in general.
Then there was watching Heath get into his sculpture. I couldn’t have asked for a better anniversary gift to see the person I love most in the world find something he enjoys and something he has natural talent for (not my words, but the words of a local artist who is quite talented).
After our Clay Play experience, we came home, made lunch, and watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy (we’re currently in season 12 SO NO SPOILERS PLEASE). I then napped on the couch and spent the rest of the day writing.
When I think of the intention I set at the start of 2020 for prioritizing connections in my life, today was a perfect day. I couldn’t have asked for anything more and it didn’t involve grand plans or much effort.
For this experience, I am grateful. I am blessed. Thank you, God. Thank you, Heath. Thank you, Ms. Bazelmans (that’s the art teacher). Thank you to everyone who showed up. And thank you Smudge. That nap was most excellent.
Next, Heath and I headed to Dee’s One Smart Bakery in Glastonbury to pick up my birthday cookie cake. Dee’s in an allergy-free bakery. Neither of us have food allergies; we simply find these baked goods superior to any others in Connecticut.
