I have gotten to the point where this end-of-the-week series is my favorite post to write. Each week has its own challenges, highs, and lows-- and this series always reminds me to slow down and appreciate the little things, before time flies by in its too-fast blur.
Earlier this week, I stepped downstairs to the sight of my husband grinding the green powder of his matcha latte. A simple scene: just part of his morning routine. Yet that simple moment encapsulated so much of what I love about marriage:
The simple fact that you know, when you wake up, that you'll go downstairs and see your spouse getting breakfast together. Barefoot, jeans, tshirt. The tinkling timbre of cereal hitting the inside of a bowl. The shrill whistle-whine of the teapot. The fresh smell of ground coffee waiting on the countertop. The first sizzle of bacon in the pan.
It's moments like this where I find myself thinking Can there ever be enough of this? Will I ever get enough of morning light slanting across a wood floor, of the honey jar's amber glow? Will I ever reach my fill of that slow morning pace? Will I ever grow tired of watching the tendons and grooves of his hands--folding and unfolding, flexing and reaching--as he works?
Little moments like these create the bedrock of what we are as a couple.
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