It's A Magical World

 

I stayed up until 2 AM last night writing an anniversary post. 

It was therapeutic. 

Maybe I'll post it someday. 
But not today. 

Today we woke up to snow.  Inches and inches of fresh, beautiful, white, bright snow.  We couldn't get out of the parking lot to Kindergarten so we declared Christmas break official and came inside to cozy up. 

   

As I shook the snow off my boots, I shook my head with a wry smile. 
"I'll have to write a new post,"  I told no one in particular. 

Wintertime eleven years ago found Wes and me sitting together on the stairs that led down to my basement college apartment.  We talked and smiled.  I mostly looked at Wes's shoes, afraid a more direct gaze might reveal something I wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

After a little small talk, Wes told me he was distributing some prized possessions to a few dear friends as a kind of missionary insurance - you know, so that he'd have a reason to be in touch with people after his two year trip to Norway.  He passed me a book. 

Wes's young self prized few things more than his collection of Calvin and Hobbes comic books.  He gave various copies to various friends.  I couldn't convince myself that his giving a copy to me meant anything in particular.  But over the two years that followed, I thought often of the comic Wes flipped to and had me read that afternoon in F. Smith Hall.

 

I thought of that comic the bright winter morning were married. 

And I thought of it this morning. 

Happy Anniversary, Wes