lovers forever

For part of my three year wedding anniversary gift to Greg, I learned and recorded this song, Leather and Lace by Stevie Nicks:

This song makes me think of our relationship, of how I knew as soon as Greg walked into my life that he was in it for good. Having my own life, but needing him to love me and stay with me. City or mountains. Lovers forever. ALSO leather is the traditional three year anniversary gift.

Three years of marriage feels like ten. Mostly because we became parents so quickly, and have lived through intense emotional times, and because I cannot even picture Greg without a beard anymore.

How do you know when a person is right for you? How do you know when to stay instead of leave? I don’t really know. This is what it is for me: when Greg and I got together it was a messy time for me, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He said, “I’d rather have messy with you than neat with anyone else,” and that stuck somewhere in my mind or heart. He took me as I was, and continues to take me and choose me as I am each day. I feel comfortable saying “no” to him. He has always treated my art as important, as Valued Work. He loves big and true, and real. He is kind. While my mom was dying he was there for me so fully, even though we’d only been dating a few months. And at her shiva he set up the food, kept my sister, dad, and I with mugs full of scotch, kicked everyone out at seven on the dot, and helped clean up. He can pick out a dress at a thrift store and surprise me with it and it’s just right. He sat next to me while I pushed out my first postpartum shit, holding my hand as I cried, which somehow felt more intimate than even holding my hand as I gave birth to our son.

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photo by Steven Trubitt

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photo by Steven Trubitt

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photo by Steven Trubitt

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photo by LeahB Photography

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photo by LeahB Photography

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3 years

me with guitar (to match pic of mama)mama playing guitar.jpeg

The week before my mom died, my friend Leah took the top photo of me. It was inspired by the photo underneath of my mom playing guitar on her bed when she was a teenager. I’d been wanting to recreate that photo with myself as the subject for a while, and since Leah (who is a professional photographer) was in town, we thought it was a good opportunity to finally do it.

A few days later my mom died. April 18, 2013 was the strangest, longest, and hardest day. There were things we had to do, so we did them.

Three years later, yesterday, it’s still really strange and uncomfortable, my insides felt itchy and out of place. My emotions flipped around from sad to calm to angry to cranky to trying to shut down.

Three years in the After. Baby Smokey rolling and kicking in my belly, getting ready to come out. I wonder if he will have her ears.