The One Who Hung The Moon

Happy birthday to the one who hung the moon. The world grew in love, creativity, and thoughtfulness 35 years ago when Edwin was born. I thank my lucky stars our two worlds became one, 13 years ago. When I think back to our start, the summer of 2010, I only see good. I think about the happy, nervous way Edwin made me feel when one of us walked into the other’s family’s house. I think about feeling like I couldn’t wait another day or minute to see him. And I think about the way he laughed that summer – such an easy laugh the way 20-year-olds laugh without all the responsibility and life experience that awaits after college. I think about his coy smile, it was a smile of spirited youth. I see this smile on our second son, Henry, now.

And I think about the music that was playing in the background – a wonderful mix of songs that bring me right back to the beach in 2010 (I shared some of the songs that defined us that summer below). I also think about the friends around us that summer (Allison and Tim at the top of the list! Christian, Nora, Margaret, Aarika, Melissa, AJ, Patrick, Johnny, Matt, Peter, Maureen, Chris) and the way the world seemed to not exist outside of our little orbit. I also think about July 11th, 2010 on the beach celebrating Edwin’s birthday that night under the brightest moon. I thought Edwin hung the moon. Turns out, I was right.

Today, on Edwin’s birthday, I dedicate this post to him. Edwin is such a creative. He is an observer, he is a feeler, he is contemplative yet operates on a whim, he is a realist yet aspirational, he is compassionate, he is driven, and, most of all, he is a wildly engaged father. Rowan and Henry beam at their dad, both certain he hung the moon too. Edwin measures success in his life so much through work and his career.

I know the truth though. He has so much to be proud of with his work accomplishments and goals but his real successes are ones he shares with me – our boys and our marriage. It feels like work. It is work. But, it’s the greatest work we’ll ever do. Lucky are we to do it together and lucky am I to do it with the brightest light in the night sky.

Over the weekend, Edwin and I went on a date. We spent a morning hiking, just the two of us, and then followed it up with a patio lunch. We don’t do it enough, date each other that is. It was so refreshing and so much fun to be with each other and remember the way we make each other feel without our children and the tasks, routines, and daily practices of child-rearing. These acts bring so much joy day in and day out in the smiles of our kids, in the funny things they say during bath time, in the “I can’t believe I get to be their parent” moments that grace the day but their repetition also leads to hard emotional, physical, and mental work.

The day to day of raising children isn’t always conducive to slowing down, looking into Edwin’s eyes, and remembering the way I felt when those eyes looked at me our first summer together, before our first kiss, at the alter on our wedding day, in the moments after our first child was born, or in the simpler moments of skiing the first day of the winter season together or diving into the ocean the first beach day of the summer season together. I want to remember, always, like everyday is Edwin’s birthday and like everyday is July 3rd, 2010 or October 28th, 2017 or September 23rd, 2020.

In Edwin’s 35th year, I vow to look at him like I did in 2010, like he hung the moon. Because, for me, he did. Let this be a year long birthday gift. Happy birthday love!