Half a decade

I've been reflecting. Five years ago today, I spent my last full day as a single woman. The world was only weeks away from its introduction to little Elian Gonzalez, the little Cuban boy in the midst of an international custody battle. A federal judge was about to declare software giant Microsoft a monopoly. We'd all just survived Y2K. Two separate groups of researchers had, weeks earlier, published the results of their quest to produce a map of the human genome. The date Sept. 11 didn't have any particularly significant meaning.

I was 28. Fit into a size 6. Lived in a different state. Was trying to adjust to a new Lab mix puppy named Ansel. Had been a homeowner for six months.

Five years doesn't sound like that much time...until you stop to remember all the bits and pieces and snippets and snapshots that make up our days, weeks, months, years. A whole lot has changed.

In those five years I:

• lost my last living grandparent, as did my husband.
• lived apart from my husband for three grueling months while he moved ahead to start our new life back home in the Midwest.
• was diagnosed as having a mental illness.
• switched careers.
• became a homeowner for a second time.
• had to say goodbye to Ansel.
• turned 30-something.
• broke my arm.
• interviewed a president of one of the top research universities in the country.
• mourned the loss of the minister who married us.
• learned how to knit.
• adopted a cat
• gave birth and learned to be a mom.

And those are just a few of the highlights.

But one thing hasn't changed...
I love you, Timothy George.
May we continue to "drink from the same loaf...eat some crackers, and be happy."
(And thank you for the gorgeous flowers. They're incredible. Just like you.)

—A