We are celebrating our six month anniversary with S. today. Well, 'celebrating' is maybe not the right word because S. is doing 12 hour shifts at work and I am battling with the last school tests and Christmas sermons (too many!), we haven't seen each other for almost 1,5 months and we are beyond the normal limits of tiredness. But even in our crazy rush hour before Christmas it is still so very sweet to look back and look ahead and to come to a conclusion - all is well. So today is a day of counting the blessings and a day of thanking the Almighty and a day of putting my favourite memories together like pearls on a string. 

The funny thing with memories is that when we live through moments we can never tell which ones will stay bright in our mind and which ones will slowly fade and disappear. There is necessarily no correlation between the 'importance' of moments and their vividness in one's memory. And often the ones that seemed the most ordinary are the ones that stay with us the longest.

For example, I remember so clearly a lazy Sunday afternoon at home when I needed to mark some tests and S. was here and he was simply taking a nap on my sofa. There was something about doing the most mundane of tasks (I always find the marking such a tedious work), knowing that even such a small thing I didn't have to do alone. Just hearing his breathing somewhere behind my back made all the difference in the world for me. 

Or sitting in a car on a Friday evening, driving to S.'s parents near Ekebyholm, talking about whatever, and just being so happy that for that one time we didn't have to use phones on that journey. Every Friday since this summer - except a few ones - we have always spoken on the phone when he's going home for the weekend on Friday night. Sitting next to him and having a face-to-face conversation in a car felt like a sweet revenge for all the other Friday evenings when I've had to be at home and on the phone. The curse of distance was broken for one short week. And it was enough for me to remember that moment still. 

Or walking out in nature late in autumn, somewhere on the coast, getting stuck in the mud and getting our feet a little wet and laughing about the whole thing and getting warm again in the car. Tired. Happy. Lungs full of fresh sea air.

Or "parking" our kayak on a tiny rock of an island somewhere on the edge of the world, no-one else in sight, no sound around us but that of waves and seagulls, no care in the world either. And we would eat the sandwiches we had made in the morning and we would go swimming in the sea and we would lay in the sun until getting a little sunburnt. Such a simple memory. And yet so extraordinary. 

What bigger moments could one ask for?

So with gratitude I look back and with hope I look ahead. There's a brand new wedding dress hanging in my closet, waiting for its time, and there's love in my heart. I am a very very blessed girl indeed. 

Happy anniversary, my love!