Ten Years Later: Happily Ever After, Then and Now

FORWARD:

Ten years ago today we entered into wedded bliss. 

The only regret I still have from our wedding was how the pictures turned out; though there were lots of great ones, the resolution of the digital files we received was so low it rendered most of them fuzzy, pixel-y, and unprintable. 

This week, we received our professional photos (<---thank you from my heart for these memories, Milana!!!) from the birthday shoot I scheduled in our wedding garb. I was beyond excited. I love beautiful pictures, and have always reveled in authentic beauty that points to the Divine.

This time, the photos were fantastic and usable, and I couldn’t wait to share them far and wide. {Wedding day on the left; 10 years later on the right}.

We re-created this picture during our recent trip to West Point for our
10-year reunion; it's our favorite bridge over the reservoir.

One of the main catalysts behind these 10-year anniversary pictures was a spontaneous picture I'd taken with the kids on our 5-year anniversary after unpacking my dress from our move. After I saw the picture, it reminded me of one the wedding photographer had taken and made a great side-by-side. Thus the idea was born to do another at ten years. We'll see how committed I am to the tradition at 15 years, and then 20-ha.

At the same time, my brother, who recently lost his home in Santa Rosa, also sent me another treasure trove: a digital storage link full of pictures from the week leading up to our wedding and our wedding day itself—many that I’d forgotten about and some I had never even seen.

It led me down memory lane, and in reminiscing I realized that I had never recorded the events since I started this blog a few years after we were married. What better time than to capture said memories in writing (and simultaneously resurrect ye old blog)?
So here are the events, as I remember them, of that wonderful week leading up to November 3rd, 2007.

HAPPILY EVER AFTER: THEN AND NOW

10 years (and 1 week) ago, I was traveling back from South Carolina after graduating from initial officer training in my Human Resources specialty branch. I made a pit stop at my parents’ in Pennsylvania to squeeze in one last dress fitting & a bridal shower, pack up my stuff, and drop it all off at the rental home my loving fiancé had found for us in Fort Drum, NY. Following the stop at our first home, I circled back down to our Alma Mater of West Point, NY for those long-awaited wedding bells. 

Some homecoming squeals with my mom and then-baby (now gorgeously grown-up)
sis--the cutest and best junior bridesmaid on the planet!

Decompressing after the shower...in
my crinoline?I have no recollection of this, ha!

That stop at Fort Drum, NY, was filled with some special firsts: I stepped foot into our first house and saw the surprise wedding gift my soon-to-be-husband has procured--our first piano, a gorgeous, well-loved upright that continues to sing its happy, slightly off-key songs today (and is still a beast to move!). But most special and overwhelming was my first meeting with our playful first pup—even though I’d been keeping tabs with pictures since Peter had adopted him a few months prior, opening the door to his greeting was still quite the shock. Just like everyone else who has ever met him, I was ill-prepared that first time for the incomprehensible enormity of my fluffy son, because no pictures could accurately convey his true size. 

But that night, as I tossed and turned with sleeplessness in our new First Bed with weird pillows, my exhausted mother-of-the-bride soundly asleep beside me and my husband-to-be slumbering in the spare room, I slid out of bed to journey to the kitchen and on the way met the enormous, ever-vigilant Samson on his nighttime patrol. So I hunkered down with him in the hallway and stroked his massive head and silky ears and we bonded; his big soulful eyes looking wisely up at me, ears perking up at threatening sounds known only to him and relaxing again, always with one watchful eye on me. That will forever be my favorite first in our first home. 

Miss you, pup.

Meandering back south to West Point the next day, we began the whirlwind of last minute preparations, hair test runs, program stuffing, rehearsal dinner-ing, and all the small little details that seemed colossal at the time but really didn’t matter in the end and I have since forgotten. One of the last things I remember as we approached midnight the night before the wedding was begging to go to sleep despite the numerous things that needed to be finished. Some things never change! 

At our reception venue, taking care of something hugely important (like linen colors or something equally enthralling). 

Rehearsal dinner

Our grandmothers at the rehearsal dinner.
They were instant besties. I love this picture. 

The morning of the wedding I rushed off to my hair appointment, eating a bagel with cream cheese and downing tea with honey and lemon since a small cold had randomly turned into my first (and only since) case of laryngitis. I had no voice to say my vows! I spent the rest of the morning trying not to talk too much and communicating in a low whisper.

There somewhere...under all that hair.

There was one joyous happy dance after another as several bridesmaids and my maid of honor—who had been told they weren’t allowed to leave restrictive army training and attend the wedding—miraculously arrived, having moved heaven and earth (with a little help from heaven, to be sure) to be present for our day.

Our priest and spiritual Father from our cadet days, Father Paul, stopped by to see Peter and then me, for one last spiritual cleansing in the Sacrament of Reconciliation before we entered into the greatest Sacramental vocation of our lives.

Peter and his brother.

And what a Sacramental celebration it was. The wedding itself was full of uncontainable joy and the tiny imperfections—windy cold weather, my voice that had come back in time for vows but was deep and throaty, and the little snafoos in the details—that make it both perfectly real and spark the realization of what truly matters on a day filled with such anticipation: God, Man, Wife, and the loving community that supports them. 

To this day, I have never had so much FUN at a wedding. I laugh to think of the plan I tried to hatch with Peter to slip out of the reception at least 15 minutes early, sure that we would be exhausted and ready to escape. But between catching up with all the beloved friends and family who had traveled far and wide, between the hilarious development of Peter’s friend who begrudgingly caught the garter and his grandmother who had caught my bouquet, between the dance-off to Thriller between a groomsman and a Colonel, we couldn’t tear ourselves away from the spirit of sheer joy and celebration. The reception hall staff essentially kicked us out of the reception hall a half an hour after the party was scheduled to end.

Grandma's got jumps!

The garter awkwardness slash hilarity.

Other regret: this is the only picture I have alone with my
wedding-planner-mother-of-the-bride-in-one, as she was hard at
work fixing mybustle that had come undone!

I procured Peter's nametag as a nod to the new
nametag I'd soon be wearing on my uniform; at our
professional pictures ten years later, he remembered
this and whipped out a nametag for me to wear again. :)

The next morning as we rushed to mass, then the airport for our flight to the surprise honeymoon destination Peter had planned (Costa Rica!) we ran out of time to stop for breakfast, so we treated ourselves to what I still consider the best breakfast of all time: leftover raspberry-crème wedding cake. I swoon just thinking about it.

Zip lining in Costa Rica

- - -

Ten years later, things look a little different. Life is nothing like I imagined and exactly what I hoped for. Today we are living that nebulous picture of the happily married couple with kids, plus all the details my mind ten years ago never would’ve been able to fill out.

We are still in the army, but settled in once place--a paradox to the me of ten years ago. There was a time when I imagined us as an active duty military family, moving every few years for the rest of our life. There was a later time when, burned out by the pace of active duty army life, I absolutely knew that once we had finally escaped our Army contracts we would leave the Army behind, put down roots, and sever all military ties. But here we are, happily settled continuing the hybrid of military service called the Reserves, which suits us perfectly right now.

We are still living our dream of a [not as] big [as I once imagined] happy family, but with children who are nothing like the limited one-dimensional figures I’d dreamt up, and everything to us in our daily reality. Their beautiful faces combined with their jaw-dropping little brains, talents, interests, and individual quirks help me realize how much I still lack, but also how much Peter and I have grown in love and straightup parenting smarts.

And this week leading up to our anniversary was comically unlike that of our wedding week. We still ran ourselves into the ground with late nights and early mornings—but the parallels stop there. We made dinner reservations for our anniversary, which ten years later is a much more agonizing process than it used to be. We squeezed in hockey and choir practice, appointments and late-night mass, homework and projects, all the while doing damage control from trick-or-treating sugar highs.

By Wednesday we decided to cancel our anniversary dinner in favor of a road trip to chilly Wyoming to honor Peter’s grandfather, whose funeral was the day prior.

The five of us piled into the car along with Peter’s brother and our niece, and spent the eve of our ten full years and anniversary itself with family--celebrating life, coming together in death, and trying to entertain kids on one daggone long drive. (And now as I sit writing this, the rest of our relaxing evening was just ambushed by a sick kid).

But I wouldn’t have it any other way. (I mean, of course I'd take a pass on the sickness part, but you get the gist).

This life is never devoid of suffering, but in the same light it is never devoid of joy.

I’ve come to realize that although I love seeing the spotlight rest on so many of these beautiful, inspiring, share-with-the-world-worthy moments of our union (see: incredible professional pictures), it’s really the private, unseen moments that I cherish most in the depth of my heart.

It’s the quiet things my love does that most of the world will never see--helping kids with math when my brain's about to explode, warming up my side of the bed with his body heat on a cold night so I don’t freeze, stopping two extra times during a road trip through the Wyoming “wilderness” to find a fork so I could eat a can of tuna—because traveling with a restrictive diet is hard. Just to name a few out of the 1,035,792,914 I can recall off the top of my head. 

It’s in these little moments of our vows that receiving love means the most, and also in these that I am learning to grow the most in my call to love. It’s about loving and honoring in good times and in bad—as in, the times where it would be easier to choose annoyance, sloth, or selfishness. Loving in sickness and in health means choosing love when there are fewer healthy days than ever, when part of the reason I still fit into this dress is because my body has turned against me and I am wasting away, and when loving and caring for me through a chronic illness {that makes me both unpredictable and limited} is just as hard on him as it is for me to love beyond myself through days and moments of pain.

We are a team. And it isn’t in the big flashy moments, but in the small daily sacrifices of loving beyond our own selves, the mutual commitment of being there for each other in the moments that matter most, that builds the immovable foundation of this heavenly sacrament.

I daresay Peter is leaps and bounds ahead of me in the selflessness part of our relationship. But his self-giving love both makes me better and makes me want to do better.

During our wedding ceremony, one of the readings we chose included Matthew 7:24-25. It reads:

24 “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. 

Many know that the name Peter literally means “rock,” which was especially meaningful when we chose those verses. But in the ten years that have surpassed, all the fluffy sentiments and niceties of this scripture passage have been tried in the furnace of real life, and we have emerged far stronger for it. I count myself both lucky and wise that to have built my house on such a firm, loving, selfless rock. And that has never been truer than today. 

I love you heart and soul, dear Peter - my sure and steady rock. Cheers to ten years, and God willing we will have much more wisdom to share as we celebrate the next forty or so!

The Easter Crawl

Part I
Jumpin' Jehosephat, man. THIS LENT.

[Insert string of bug-eye emojis].

[Also prefacing this with the fact that my Lent has been total cake compared to many of my friends. Something big and beautiful must be on the horizon, because peeps getting flattened, yo. Pray for them with me!].

It's been a wild ride the past few weeks, and I feel like I'm crawling toward Easter and the promise of some Resurrection joy with all the strength I can muster. Some of the high(low?)lights:

1. For about 48 horrific hours last week we thought we would have to say goodbye to our Samson pup. Despite the "he's just a dog" reality talk with which I've tried to brace myself, it was absolutely terrible. He has pretty bad arthritis already in his hips/hind legs, and at some point (probably running across the yard to bark at a passerby) he injured himself so badly he couldn't put any weight on his back legs. This does not bode well for a 150 lb. giant who we simply cannot pick up, even as a team. Thankfully it was a Sunday so Peter was home, and we sat with him in the backyard in shifts, bringing him water and food. Peter just may have spiked his water dish with Lourdes water too in faith and desperation. Eventually we were able to help him hobble a few feet so we could get him inside for the night, but after that he was done. He hadn't been to the bathroom in hours, so Peter ran out for puppy pads to place under him, but faithful obedient Samson held it with all his might, even though we tried to tell him it was okay and he wouldn't be in trouble.

I kept checking on him and prayed my heart out for hours that night since I couldn't sleep (I was also having one of my flareups which was not helpful). When Peter got up in the morning, Old Man Samson had somehow moved from one room to another and we felt a surge of hope. We got him to the vet--it took five of us to lift him on and off a stretcher (that didn't lower!) and he got x-rays which didn't reveal much...save some possible tearing of his doggie "ACL" which may or may not have been the cause of his issues. We had the gut-wrenching

talk with the vet about having to euthanize in the next few days if he didn't heal quickly or fully enough to walk or get out and do his business. It was so awful, especially since he is still completely healthy otherwise; old, yes, but surprisingly healthy.

Pampering and keeping vigil with our pup.

We left the vet armed with some painkillers but not much else; after all the poking and prodding, he was back to not being able to stand. It was a long few days trying not to ugly cry...at home, at the vet, trying to explain a probable goodbye to the kids as they loved on him and prayed rosaries and lit candles for him. We repeated the Lourdes water "treatment" too, even as we prepared for the worst. And miracle of miracles, the next morning, our pup was up and standing again, walking slowly, and able to go outside on his own. He has quickly improved from there and--incredibly--is basically back to his old self.

We're better prepared for the inevitable now; we know another such incident could do Samson in, so we're trying to make sure he remembers he's not a puppy anymore. But aside from sleeping a little more and getting his daily geriatric doggie anti-inflammatory and glucosamine, he is still fit as a fiddle. We got some non-slip socks that help him on our wood floors, Peter built a ramp over the deck steps to the yard, and for now we're just gratefully cherishing the wonderful time we still have with our fluffy old man.

2. At the same time time this was happening, the poor boys spiked fevers and were souped up on fever reducer as we ran around trying to help our Samsonator.

3. Oh and also at the same time, there was lots of restructuring and uncertainty at Peter's work. The stress was pretty much through the roof for awhile. 

Oh the relief when that whole week was over. 

4. For those not yet weary of my health saga updates: I'm excitedly counting down the days until my next procedure in the long line of endometriosis treatment attempts [endoscopy/colonoscopy. My NaPro also gave me some low-dose naltrexone to try after the procedure]. So much lost sleep and so many reactions and flare-ups in the past month I've lost count. I'm looking more like skin and bones and feeling like a zombie/hormonal ball of yuck. Every day is an unpredictable...adventure. Yeah, let's say adventure. That's such a pleasant-sounding word. But I finally kicked my progesterone treatment to the curb because it wasn't doing squat except making me even more exhausted, and I feel slightly less brain-fogged and like there's maybe even a slight improvement in my good days overall. At any rate, I'm somewhat naively praying the upcoming scope reveals something [but not necessarily anything--please God, nothing scary, and something that is easily treatable and will go away stat]. I'm hesitant to get my hopes up too high after years of being burned, but I also know that hope keeps me going right now so I have to hang my hat on something. So hope for the last week of April it is. 

5. But wait, there's more. This Lent has been chock full of a slew of other happenings I won't really go into--the kind that all sound annoying but manageable on their own (like appliances breaking in triplicate), but when combined with all of the above basically amounted to a bunch of "sobbb make it stoppppp" moments on the hour. At least I had lots to offer for all of my loved ones!

Part II
LIFE IS STILL GOOD

But now for the good, because there are always little moments of consolation to be had in the trenches, and so many beautiful moments as we emerge from some tough patch or another:

1. My Lenten social media fast has been both eye-opening and enriching. Someday I'll have the time and energy to articulate it better, but in the mean time, this Digital Detox piece I wrote for the Blessed is She blog contains much of what I learned about myself in terms of social media, and ways I found to help curb compulsive digital use in order to use my devices to add more value to my life versus taking away. In short, though my time away hasn't been a magical panacea for all of my dowfalls, it's helped me create better habits and be more intentionally present to the people who matter most. I have confidence that I'll be able to return to social media with more self-discipline, more purposeful usage, and healthier interaction when the time comes.

2. I'm stoked about my book list so far this year. Books, as always, are my favorite consolation. It's been a good mix of new titles and oldies but goodies. My latest reviews are here. I've gotten through a bunch more since then which I'm also psyched to share soon...you know, in the next month or three.

3. Random delights: 

• The new double exposure feature on one of my favorite editing apps is pretty cool (maybe slightly creepy too). I'm having fun playing with it: 

Peach buds and sunsets

More spring buds and cocktails

Pano mountain views and sunset clouds in pink. 

• These cookies from my local grocery store are my new jam. They're also mucho dinero. But when almost all food is your enemy, any baked goods that you can eat, and that taste decent, and that almost resemble a girl scout cookie are truly a glorious gold mine. These cookies--free of all major allergens--are still a staple in my cabinet, too. 

• Speaking of groceries and stores, I am a new woman since my regular store began online ordering and pickup (even same day - ready four hours after you order it!). You're literally not supposed to get out of your car for liability reasons, so you just sit and relax while they open your trunk and load your groceries. The woman who runs it (we're now on a first name basis) also told me the first time that they're actually not allowed to take tips, and that she would see me next week. I didn't even have a kid in the car to make me look less lazy! Thus any and all guilt I was harboring vanished. So essentially I've become a regular never-enter-the-store-unless-I'm-forced-to shopper. It's a beautiful thing.

4. Building the village. The soul work continues through the ups and downs. Some of the best graces from my social media fast were my renewed effort to better foster in-person relationships instead of defaulting to connecting over a screen. I'm especially thankful lately for the moms/Blessed is She women's group I lead, as well as a couples small group--the men and women each meet once a month, and I've gotten to know some really incredible women. I'm so grateful for online connections, but nothing can replace the in-person village that we all need, and it's been largely missing in my married life up to now. Some of it has come about by chance, but I'm also learning how important it is to put in the hard (and sometimes way out of my comfort zone) work. Namely, taking advantage of events and opportunities that are all around me to find/create the community I long for, instead of making excuses or expecting it to just land in my lap. The effort is absolutely worth it--I'm being fed in such awesome ways by this building up of my local community and support network and I'm really looking forward to seeing where it's headed.

Weekly(ish) tea date with my lovely friend
and soon-to-be-almost neighbor!

5. This quote from Aristotle has been in my brain this week ever since my Spiritual Director mentioned it:

"Virtue is the mean between two extremes." Or, "virtue is a mean between two vices, one of excess and one of deficiency."

Technically it's a much deeper and more extensive philosophy called the Golden Mean, but the above sums up the concept perfectly. I'm sure all the truth bombs and light bulb moments that are already hitting me will result in plenty of future blog post fodder.

---

Alright, I think that's enough peaks and valleys for now, yes? I hope your Lent was (is) manageable and growth-inducing in some form or another, and that Easter meets you with joy and beauty anew!

Picture-Worthy

Not being on social media for Lent has been really...hard. I'll say it. But also very good for all the reasons I thought it would be and more; it's extremely growth-inducing thus far. 

The one thing I miss in many ways is playing amateur photographer. This social media fast has shown me that taking pictures does simply makes me happy, whether I'm sharing them with the masses or not. It's also been interesting to see the shift in how and what I capture from day to day, now without a specific social media "audience" in mind. It's a subtle shift, but it's there.

I'm taking fewer pictures overall, but in a lot of ways there's more meaning behind the picture I decide to snap. I'm not taking it for anyone else--I'm taking it because I, myself, find it photo-worthy. I'm not worried about how I'll caption a shot or whether it'll make my feed look nice. I simply capture what I want to remember: a glimpse of beauty, or a moment that evokes an emotion worth revisiting. 

Altogether, it creates a fun little trail of breadcrumbs for my tired brain to say, 'aha, that's what happened yesterday [this morning/last week/whatever day that was].' And it's lovely to know that it's first and foremost for my own satisfaction that I've created this little string of memories. 

So here are some of those moments that I deemed picture-worthy in the last two weeks. A few with some edits, because making pictures prettier is something that still makes me happy, but many without (like all of the outdoor photos--because Colorado is its own perfect filter!).

Fluffy Old Man

Oh this pup. He's all over my camera roll and my heart as he continues to go downhill physically. His hips have been giving out once or twice a day and he needs help getting up when it happens. And overall he's just moving really slowly. But he's still being his cantankerous self trying to bark down the garbage truck or bikers who whiz by the fence or any other apparent threat to his kingdom. We're trying to make the most of all of our time with him, and party it up with him this weekend for his 11th birthday in all the ways he likes best. 

Caught in a frisky moment wrestling with his moose.

Clearly he's still got some puppy left!

His favorite spot for morning naps.

WINTER IS COMING.

Yes, I actually do mean winter. Because after a winter with record high temps where all the flowers and trees are fully tricked into thinking it's officially spring, you know there'll be another (or ten) snowstorm(s) with a good six-foot dump...and at least one of them guaranteed to land on us again for Mother's Day. 

Don't fall for it, little leaves and buds! Go back to your home!

Fake Lent flowers + real flowers.

Sigh of Relief 

I lost my rosary right after we got back from our last ski trip. For any of you who know the story behind this rosary, you know that it's no little thing. I knew it had to be somewhere in the house, so I wasn't too worried at first. But after casually and then frantically searching everywhere, it still didn't turn up. I told all the kids to keep an eye out, and Marie said "um, why don't you just pray to find it, Mom? It's a rosary, duh." And I said "I definitely have, miss." And she said "well we should again," and she did. The next morning as I was getting in my car, I remembered that my purse had fallen and dumped as I rounded a curve a few weeks prior, sending stuff everywhere. I looked in passenger door compartment and there it was, safely tucked away where it had fallen. Phew! After 13 years of companionship, it was a big sigh of relief. 

Sweet Kiddo Memories

Interacting with kids in different ways, especially as they get older, is an adjustment. I really don't play with them often unless it's a family card game, I no longer have entertain/distract them in the car (Marie is always reading and the boys entertain each other), and conversations on my terms are always forced. So I'm trying to be more open to when and how they want to share. With Ethan, it's tuning into his non-stop chatter instead of ignoring it. With Erik, it's asking him to show or explain something to me and he'll launch into the details with glee. With Marie, lately it's at bedtime when her brain seems to be flying--she has all sorts of imaginings and story ideas and questions to share that require increasingly complicated answers. So I try to give her a few extra minutes of listening, even though my brain is more than done for the day.

Well, not too long ago she started asking to help with dinner, and has actually become quite the helpful little sous-chef. She's learning, I have a competent helper who is actually contributing  when I'm stressing about dinner, and we have delightful conversations too. Win-win. 

Just some snuggles in the big bed one night with my three loves.

New Sofa

After parting with our 10-year-old couches that were way too big for our living room, I dreamed for awhile about the perfect loveseat/settee for the space. The area has been a big empty space for many months now as we saved and searched. Well, the "perfect" piece is finally here, and though we can't exactly boast its comfort, I'm happy as a clam that my little vision is so beautifully fulfilled. 

The packaging wan an adventure all its own...

Girl's Best Friend

Speaking of Old Man Samson...these two and their unspoken bond get me in the heart every time. 

Weekend Fun...and Weekend "Fun"

Allllll the things converged this past weekend. I had drill all weekend, Peter had drill Saturday but not Sunday, the kids had a few parties, the boys had hockey Sunday, Marie had her last team practice and game... and oh. It was also the dreaded daylight savings spring forward. Which was extra cruel considering that we were all stumbling around at feels-like-5am for report time for drill and Marie's early practice which Peter got to drag the boys to.

But the highlight for sure: on Sunday, during Marie's last hockey game, the team won and Marie got her first hat trick [three goals scored by the same person in one game]. Not only that--the last two goals of her hat trick were in the last few minutes of the game. Most importantly, a very proud Dad was there to see it (although he couldn't throw his hat onto the ice to embarrass her because a net was in his way). I don't get into sports much, but Peter's play-by-play that night when I got home had me on the edge of my seat! Little Miss has decided that she's not interested in other sports and would like to stick with hockey through the summer and fall, please, so she can be on the Avs when she grows up.

Obnoxiously large end-of-season swag for lucky #13

If my loving husband didn't change the clocks for us, it would literally never happen.
My aversion to changing clocks runs deep.

When I realized bright (dark) and early on daylight savings morning that Erik and I matched. 

I also made the mistake of signing up for school conferences before school on Monday.
The Monday after a chaotic, exhausting, daylight savings. But we caught a beautiful
moonset (more below) and were only 5 minutes late!

Dinner School

Peter never wastes an opportunity to bestow knowledge on the kids, usually at dinner, and I find myself re-learning all the things that normal grownups forget (but not Peter). When the kids asked a question about degrees (in relation to weather), suddenly we found ourselves knee-deep in explanations over tuna casserole of True North vs. Magnetic North, latitude and longitude, circles, fractions, and the like.

Degrees of a circle, as demonstrated with chopsticks.

Which of course meant that we weren't going to be celebrating Pi day without an actual lesson on Pi and a few diameter/circumference calculations...thank goodness one of us will be able to help the kids with their Geometry homework some day!

Our "Pi." Because cake is way better.

Endless Skies

Clearly I have a love/love relationship with Colorado clouds.Five years in and I can definitely say I'm just as smitten with our ever-living, ever-changing mountain views and the whole glorious dome of Colorado skies. And I didn't edit a single photo here because the edits never look so good as the real thing. 

Leaving church on Sunday night.

Moon set with appropriately-themed clouds to accompany it.

Sunset, 3/14

And sunrise this morning, 3/16. When our window shades start glowing pink,
I know it'll be worth it to drag myself out of bed for a look.