Hug

It seems like for most of our first year of marriage, one of us has been sick. And by one of us, I mean me. We were just talking this morning about how we both knew marriage would have its challenges, but we had no idea that we’d be hit head-on by such challenges immediately. Like, the day we got back from our honeymoon.

In 2011…
A total of 5 months of one of us being sick
Having two mortgages
Selling a house
A burglary
Death of a loved one

But those challenges have brought such sweet, tender moments with them.

This week has been no different. Like I mentioned before, Mr. Right came down with the stomach flu while at the ranch, so for the past four nights, we’ve stayed on opposite sides of the house. If it were anything besides that stomach bug, I wouldn’t worry about catching it, but this one has completely wiped him out for five days now. So, we’ve tried to limit the germ spreading, I’ve disinfected the house, washed every article of clothing that we took to the ranch, and washed my hands until they’re almost chapped.

It’s only been a few days, but I miss him. Maybe it’s because we’re sappy newlyweds, or maybe it’s because I have an inherent need to be hugged by my husband… but last night when I got home from work, I couldn’t take it anymore. I dropped my bag and walked straight toward my germy man and gave him a huge hug.

That moment may have been one of my very favorites of the past year.

Tonight he comes off quarantine, and I am ecstatic.

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