I wrote this on the way to the airport to head back to the United States. I have written other iterations of anniversary posts, honest and loving, emotional and far too real. This one feels the most right. Don’t worry, food posts are coming soon. I haven’t forgotten what this blog is about. xo.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” He asked, a few feet ahead of me.
Walking down the streets of Phuket Town, I had suddenly paused. The afternoon was hot, muggy, and scented with sun-kissed seafood. Both of us tired and cranky, he understandably wanted to keep moving.
I stared down a…manhole? A sewer? Some sort of drainage? I’m still not sure what exactly it was. But it was a large hole that I could peer over the edge and stare into its abyss.
“Wait, come here. Come look at this,” I responded.
Walking next to a dried out creek that smelled of drought and refuse, he had assumed I’d stumbled onto something upsetting. That I was grossed out and couldn’t look away.
He walked over and joined me in looking at the most amazing, blossoming scape of bright green plants and lily pads that were both beautiful and shocking. Unexpected, but exactly where they were supposed to be.
“Oh. Wow. That is not what I expected to see. Should we take a picture?” he asked.
I thought about it. Of course we should. “No,” I surprisingly said aloud, “Not everything needs to be captured and shared. But it’ll be nice to remember. And it’s nice to find beauty in the unexpected.”
I can’t think of a better way to sum up the first year of marriage.