better than good enough

My husband went to Louisiana with our children this past weekend. I bought their tickets and contacted TSA about meeting him at the airport. When we got there, no TSA agent was there to meet us. I found an agent and asked her to help me figure out where our assigned agent was. I filled out luggage tags for the kids while calling TSA to find out where out assigned agent was. Finally our assigned agent found us, telling us we didn't need to wait in line. I knew we didn't need to wait in line if we had a TSA agent with us, but we hadn't had one.

I checked the bags while my husband waited with the TSA agent. Then I walked to security with them. Our agent brought us to the front of the line, in front of a uniformed service member. I asked my husband to take out his ID. I separated the boarding passes for him by flight. I said goodbye to our children. I went home. I got a phone call notification that their gate had been changed and I called to make sure my husband was at the new gate. He was.

My best friend landed hours later. We ate out then went to my house and watched tv. My husband called to tell me his mom had picked him and the kids up from the airport and I relaxed.

The next day, Friday, Elle and I went to the beach. It was a gorgeous drive. We got a little lost but found the beach and spent a few hours collecting sea glass. I found a tiny orange piece and a tiny cobalt piece. I brought them home to add to my collection, because despite their size, they are unique. We started to get chilly so we left. We saw a deer on the side of the road and I hollered, "hey baby." The deer did not seem impressed, but we spent the rest of Elle's trip giggling about it.

On Saturday, we went to the farmer's market then ate a feast of kale chips, smoked salmon, roasted radishes, fresh berries and whipped cream with a bit of honey instead of sugar. We pulled some chairs together in my backyard and drank strawberry infused vodka. We talked about my husband. There had been a time when she didn't think I should marry him. She was worried about me and thought we were moving too fast. Apparently, I allayed her fears by saying, "the worst that will happen is we'll get divorced."

Sitting in my backyard Saturday, I was amused and saddened by this. How naïve I was to assume that the worst thing that could happen was a divorce. That conversation happened before my husband, then my boyfriend, drove over a bomb. It was years before I diagnosed him with TBI and even longer before someone at the VA confirmed my diagnosis. I was only thinking about big heartbreak. I did not know all the little ways your heart can break every single day. Elle and I talked about this. This is the benefit of having a best friend of almost two decades, you can dissect everything.

"I almost wish I had married someone I didn't love so much," I told her.

"But think," she said, "of how sad that would be."

She is right. It would be sad. No matter how many times my heart skips a painful beat because my husband has a moment where he is lost, there are an equal number of times my heart skips a beat because I know, to my core, that I am spending my days with the love of my life. I know more pain and joy than I ever would have if I had married someone I liked well enough.

On Sunday we went to Mt. Rainier and hiked on an unmarked trail outside of the Mt. Rainier national park. We walked by a rushing stream, loud among quiet moss covered rocks. Then we went home and watched tv.

We complained a lot about how sore our thighs were from squatting on the beach looking through puddles for treasure. We complained about our dirty feet, our hunger, our long drives. We could have just spent her entire visit sitting on the couch and watching tv or reading books. We would have been happy enough. Instead we chose to have a visit punctuated by both unimaginable beauty and by discomfort. It was better than good enough.