It’s Sunday, our first anniversary. We’re pretty excited that we actually got up and went to church, since we spent Saturday night out with our friends, individually. We follow church with lunch at our favorite coffee shop, come home, and decide what to do for the rest of the day.
We settle on taking a bike ride to a nearby park, bringing some wine and cheese, and opening our anniversary cards.
It’s cloudy and looks like rain, but the weather’s supposed to be clear after 4 o’clock, so we decide to take a nap, then get up at 4 and start our adventure. I set my alarm and we collapse into bed. And we sleep. For 3 hours. I set my alarm for 4 AM instead of 4 PM.
So we wake up, drag our bikes downstairs (quite an ordeal as we keep them in the guest bedroom of our 3rd floor apartment – behind a pile of stuff) and order Chinese take-out.
The trip to the park is a little longer than expected, and down a lot of really fun hills, but we finally make it, spread out our blanket, and start our picnic.
And what a romantic picnic it is. We eat Chinese food, chat about our first year together, building our baby family. We reminisce about our wedding, make plans for the next year, laugh when it starts to sprinkle, open our cards, talk about how hard the ride back will be.
It rained on our wedding day. Poured, really, so much so that we have very few pictures of us together after the wedding, and the bubble-blowing occurred in the church atrium. We talk about this too.
And just as Nate says, “Well, at least it’s not raining that hard,” the floodgates open and we are immediately drenched.
These are the times when you know you’ve picked the right partner. We laugh. We laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. Because at this point what else can you do? Our takeout containers fill with water and we put the cards in our bike bags as quickly as possible. We watch the people driving by, laughing at us as we stand under a tree, pretending it will shield us from the rain.
Eventually the rain stops. We watch the steam rise off the pavement and the sun peep out from behind the clouds. It’s getting cooler, and we ponder how we will get home.
We call for back-up. And wait.
By the time we get home, our fingers are wrinkled, all our gear is soaked, and we’re cold. But we open our cards and drink our wine, and laugh about how now we know that we can weather the storms together.