My husband has always loved water; maybe all the ponds, lakes, rivers, and oceans he’s fallen in love with are all reflected in the blue eyes with which he shows his love for me (yeah, yeah, okay, too corny, even for me). In all seriousness though, the sight of water really does calm Cody, massaging his soul more than music, exercise, and even reading.
For me, an equivalent escape has always been found amidst mountains. It’s hard to explain the feeling I get the moment I see a change in topography from my Midwestern plains to a lift in the land. I am filled with anticipation and quiet expectation – what will I learn about myself here? What will be revealed while I’m here? Where do I need to feel small in my life again? What will I finally embrace about myself? To find myself in the mountains is to be reminded that life is a gift to be treasured and used wisely – It is the realization that I am actually very small.
Cody’s escape is water; mine is the mountain air. Er, that’s how it usually was, anyway.
Cody has been to many incredible mountain ranges already, but I felt particularly honored when I was able to watch him fall in love with the mountains like I had a decade before. I will never forget how much joy was radiating from my husband when we had gone as close to Long’s Peak in the Rocky Mountains as we physically could as a group.
The boy could have done fifty cartwheels and not tire. His pure joy was shining – the boy was a happy human and I was excited to see him so happy.So fast forward to this last weekend when we were at the lake. I had an incredible time, and Cody noticed how much I was enjoying myself
by frequently commenting how much he loves “Summer Ania”, telling me “[I] should keep her around” even when I have to start teaching in a couple weeks again.
I was sad to leave when the sun went down, but my heart was soaring on the car ride back home. Cody could probably feel it because he broke our thoughtful silence:
“You know what’s funny? How you felt today is how I felt when I was in the mountains. And mountains are usually your thing and water is usually mine.”
I thought about his observation and added, “You had your best friends in the mountains and, today, I was with one of my closest friends by the water. Maybe it doesn’t matter so much where you are but rather who you’re with.”
And, honestly, even though we’ve had wonderful opportunities to travel so much this year, the biggest reason they’ve been so extraordinary is because we’re seeing these places together. We’re hiking the same paths, “ooh”ing at the same sights, and reminiscing about the same memories when we’re lounging on our living room floor months after we’ve returned.
Even when we’re home, however, we’re seeking those same memories to make with people who are important to us: friends that have become family and, on the opposite side of the spectrum, those we’ve met that we hope become good friends.
At the end of the day, Cody and I are building our very own village:
even though life is being kind today, who will be by our side when life becomes difficult tomorrow? Who will help us raise our children into good people? Who laughs at the same things we do, and cares about the world in the same capacity? And – most importantly – who will help us be our best selves so that our marriage continues to be a refuge where we don’t feel the need to escape anymore?
