The Past Two Years

The other day an outfit inspired a moment of thankfulness and reflection around here. It was the first Sunday in November, and I happened to be wearing one of my old-faithfuls of church outfit selections: a shirt-dress with a tie-waist that may-or-may-not-be-inappropriately short. When teaching I wear it as a long shirt over pants, and while out in public I risk the shortness with tights underneath and a long coat to give the illusion of acceptability. I like it. It's a pink and navy flower print (totally not what I'm usually drawn to in a store) but goes with black and brown and gray and fits no matter what. Brian saw it, tilted his head to the side for a second, and said, "Hey - that's what you were wearing when we met!"

Then we looked at the calendar, realized it was the first Sunday in November, and made the connection that here I was, wearing the same outfit, two years later, on the same exact Sunday of the month. Not that earth-shattering, but it was kind of a cute moment (mostly cute to me, because he noticed and remembered what I was wearing when we first met). Now, if you know us, you know that the first time we met was all of 3-5 minutes of small talk in the hallway at the school where Brian and my brother worked, half of the conversation directed toward my brother and his family and half of it towards me. During that time I was just floundering through my first year of teaching and had a great set of dark circles developing under my eyes. I had been switched between classrooms, my kids faced such severe struggles at home that managing behavior in the room was a marathon of effort every day, and the overwhelming burden of not being effective at my job was weighing me down deep into the ground. Surely there were good things in my life, too, but this adulthood thing and this teaching thing has been a transition not without its struggles for me. Working for Teach For America, while so good in so many ways, will do that weighing-down thing to you. At that point, all I could do was answer simple questions, nod, half-smile, and say "nice to meet you," before trudging home to a nap. And that was the last I heard of Brian Whartnaby for seven months.

Then the phone call happened, then the first date happened, and the rest was history. Isn't it crazy what can happen in two years? We went from friendly strangers to exciting crushes to serious dating to married; Brian is who I live my life with and around now; he is my person. There's no way I could have predicted what role he would take in my life on that Sunday two years ago.

I've been inspired by a few bloggers and other sources in the encouragement to downsize my possessions a bit and clean out my closet every once in a while. This weekend was one of those occasions, where those few pieces bought in my college years that have been hanging on for dear life were finally laid to rest in the Goodwill pile. This shirt-dress (or whatever it is) was no exception, as it was purchased on sale during my junior year of college and had to come under the scrutiny of to-keep-or-not-to-keep just like the rest of them. And I thought about how I wore it last Sunday, not knowing the anniversary of the occasion, and how Brian remembered it, and that it made me smile. It was the dress I wore when I met him. So, its position in my overstuffed closet remains indefinitely, as it helps remind me of the past two years, the progress I've made, the love I've found, the hand of God in my life, and the peace that comes in the unfolding of time seen in the rearview of hindsight.

Little did Brian or I know who we were really meeting that day, two years ago. I'm so glad it turned out how it did.