but we’re not the same.
We get to carry each other
carry each other.
It was our wedding anniversary yesterday. Eleven years.
We’ve done so much in that time. We’ve lived through leukaemia. We’ve bought a home. We’ve had two children. We’ve lived through more illness. We’ve renovated. We’ve travelled. We’ve danced. We’ve struggled. We’ve laughed. We’ve lived. My goodness, we’ve lived!
I mentioned struggle. It’s not anyone’s fault. We’ve had a lot to deal with. We’re human. If you place enough pressure on a couple, there will be fissures and fractures. There’s only been eleven days of our marriage that haven’t been stained by leukaemia. And leukaemia stains everything. Even eleven years later. Even when we try to run so far away from it. It’s still there.
Initially the fight for my life made us stronger. It did. But when you’re dealing with the fallout a decade later, sometimes your oneness can crumble.
So we plaster the cracks. Start every day afresh. And we mend and mend and mend again.
Mr G and I are so different, yet we complement each other too. I’m the live-for-today poetic soul. He’s the scientific steady hand. But we laugh a lot. His humour keeps us going.
Yesterday we celebrated. We’ve achieved so much! For one, we’ve made two incredible kids. And with them we’ve made a colourful, loud and loving home.
Eleven years is a long time to share a life with someone. I’m really glad I’ve shared them with my Mr G. We’ve done more than survive. We’ve lived.