The single happiest day of my life was the day I got married.  I had to think about this…in tight competition was the day we met, the day he finally asked (after I impatiently waited five years for him to grow up), the day each of our sons was born, or the majority of the days since.  See the theme?  He, this man who inexplicably chose me, is my joy.  That said, when we married, I admit, I worried about the certainty of it all.  After all, I was brought into the world by two people who loved each other more than anything…until he couldn’t, wouldn’t – in any event, didn’t.

Jason loves to tell the story of how we met.  While in our law school library he [from the mezzanine level] saw a girl bent over a table “studying” in red jeans, and that was it…  A lot of life has happened since that day in 1996.

It ain’t easy kids!  Anyone who tells you that it is all fairy tale bliss needs to change the flavor Cool-Aid they are drinking.  Love is the easy part.  It is the rest of the equation that will knock you senseless.  And that is with just the regular work, kids, life, stress tango – throw in some cancer and chronic illness and well – you have to really really really want it…

I remember standing under the chupa wrapped in Jason’s tallis, with the rabbi’s warmth and blessing, and Jason’s strong hands and eyes holding mine and thinking, this is it:  that one perfect moment in a lifetime.  It isn’t that I was unaware that we would face challenges, but standing there, I was utterly overwhelmed with joy and contentment knowing that the challenges would be with this extraordinary man standing next to me holding me so tight that I truly believed anything could be overcome.  All those years were a prelude to the kiss of a lifetime.  A kiss filled with promise, intention, and optimism.  A kiss so passionate that my toes curl to this day thinking about it.

In the years since we have known life’s greatest joys and unthinkable sorrows.  And we have worked at being “us,” every single day.    It is Jason that introduced me to no purpose flowers.  Those most spectacular extraordinarily perfect and beautiful moments not driven by any condition, expectation, or obligation…  They are simply gifts and our life together is filled with them.  I am proud of this life we built, thorns and all.  To this day, it is the no purpose flowers that make me smile the deepest.

Tomorrow is surgery day.  Having finally more or less adapted to life with an ileostomy – it is now being reversed.  Harold is out, J-Pouch is in.

I am crazy scared for the next phase.  Not for the surgery itself or another hospital stay [which speaks volumes to the ugly reality that I have been through too much], but for the several months to follow.  I have heard stories of challenges that 42-year old women should not know from.  I wonder if I will every truly be the same girl again.  I am frightened I won’t be able to work, or work the same way.  Can you see it:  “OBJECTION…Um, your honor, the prosecutor is full of shit.”  I’m terrified the pain will return, or it won’t work.  I’m afraid I will never be the girl in the red jeans that stopped the world’s cutest boy wonder in his tracks.

A rather wise and dear friend told me that I am “allowed to lose my patience with the process.  Not all the time, but at select intervals of my choosing.  And then I am not to apologize.”  So I will…and I won’t.

Today as I drift off, I will be laser focused on that perfect moment under the chupa, on all of my no purpose flowers, but I hope you will focus on my Jason.  It isn’t easy being the other half and caretaker.  He has been iron strong in loving and protecting me these past three (read 17 years) and he is the source of my drive and resolve.  He has loved me better than I could ever love myself through it all.

I believe in B’Shirt, in destiny, though hugely uncomfortable with the possibility that mine could be short lived.  This life with this man, it is my ultimate no purpose flower.  I long for the red jeans stare.  I ache for normalcy of mind and body.  I hope to emerge at least the girl I was, dare I imagine better.   Our story is one of true love.  One meant to last for the ages.  We are supposed to grow old together.  NPS.  Most.  Extra.

Maybe this latest hurdle is just another prelude to lots of continued passionate kisses.