Pride.
2004-03-16 at 10:46 a.m.
Dear Andrew,I wish I still had the vows I made to you at our marriage. I worked on them a long time, and when we had Nicole, sworn to secrecy, read them to make sure we weren't going to outdo each other (even in our vows we were slightly competitive without wanting to be--heh), she warned me I had to ramp mine up.
I love it when you surprise me. And you do, over and over and over.
This morning I found my cell phone in my charger. I know I often forget to charge it--how many times have I gotten a ride from you to work and on the way had to switch batteries with your phone? But you've taken to searching mine out and slipping it in the charger for me at night. You don't announce it, but it's just a little sign of how much you think of me.
I think I love those surprises the best. The little ones that are by-products of a larger picture where we're a team, and my success is yours and yours is mine.
In two weeks I start this whole new thing that part terrifies me and part excites me. I'm going to be in school again, starting this whole new career path, and I think--hope--think I'm going to be pretty good at it, and pretty happy. For all that, it's still a big risk, where I'm stepping out of this career track I've been on and I'm essentially starting over.
Sometimes I feel a little lost and panicky, feeling behind of our friends and peers who've made so much more headway into being an "adult"--owning their own homes, starting families, having those things people call "savings". But you don't let me dwell. You keep me focused on what matters.
In fact, it's because of you that it seems a risk worth taking. I love knowing that you love what you do. I love hearing you solve problems (even when I, for all my computer savvy, have no earthly idea what you're talking about with registries and protocols and attributes and who-all and whatsit). I feel so proud when you can use that to help your friends. The truth is your passion for your work inspired me to find what was missing from my work and to see the worth in finding something where I could feel something even microscopically closer to what you feel.
Last night you told me how proud you were of me--going back to school and finding something I love to do and doing it. And I want to tell you something that I just couldn't put into words last night. It's brash to make predictions about what would have happened in one's life if "things were different" because, of course, who's to say? But I can't imagine doing all this without you. With you in my corner, this risk doesn't seem as big.
So just know--I'm wicked proud of you too.
Love,