April 2

I try not to make sweeping statements very often because they're usually gross overgeneralizations, but with 15-plus years of experience under my belt, I feel qualified to make this particular assertion: marriage is hard. It's basically the act of pouring two different vials filled with hopes and ambitions and attitudes and backgrounds into one receptacle and hoping they don't explode. Okay, so that's overly cynical. But you get what I mean: it's hard from the get-go, and once the unexpected complications of this life are added to the mix and the composition of the mixture changes, it becomes even more complex and potentially volatile.

We've certainly had our ups and downs (and ups and downs) over the years; we've bought homes together and had children together and said good-bye to Logan together and traveled together and made just about every important decision of our adult lives... together. And we're far from being the same type of person; he's introverted while I'm a shameless extrovert, he's neat and I'm not-so-much, he's introspective and I'm outwardly emotional. (And that's all really just the tip of the iceberg). But somehow, we've made it work. And that's not a blessing I take for granted, because I know how incredibly, painfully hard marriage can be.

So for it continuing to work in spite of ourselves and for lovely mornings like today's that afforded us the chance to hike the ridge and for a teenage daughter who baby-sits her brothers with little grumbling (so we can take said time to ourselves), I'm thankful. It may not be perfect, but that doesn't mean it isn't good.