Tonight, we sit in anticipation of the anniversary of our wedding day. Two years ago, we stood for a chilly run-through of our wedding. As my dad and I made our way to the spot where we were to say "I do," I remember him making me laugh because I was so afraid I would cry. While I was a girl that planned a million weddings, I'm not sure I ever truly saw myself as a bride. And in that moment, in my sweater and Uggs as we practiced the walk that would make me your wife, I felt happier and more beautiful than I can remember. Surrounded by family and friends, Malcolm running all over the place and screaming happily into the microphone, that night in totality was one of the best nights of my entire life.
As we laid in bed, too excited to sleep, I remember wishing that this feeling would never end. The excitment, the happy anxiety.
And today, the night before the 2nd anniversary of our wedding, it has faded. All things do. And it is currently replaced with a terrifying anxiety. Tomorrow we will go to a procedure that will give us answers as to the status of your health. I cannot hold your hand through it, but know I will be with you throughout. Tonight, I want you to know that I never imagined marriage would be like this. I knew it would be work and I knew not everything can be happy and sunshine.
We've had our share of horrendous fights and moments that made me fear for our future. And we've fought a battle for your health together. I never in a million years would have guessed that before we made it to our two year anniversary, we would be facing a cancer battle.
But we did. And if cancer is what we're looking at once more, we'll fight it together. I do not have any magic words that will make you less anxious or that make tongight less scary or painful. But I do have a hand for you to hold and a shoulder for you to cry on and a lap where you can rest your head when you are tired. Know that I love you, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
ySo, Yes, the magic of our wedding has faded. The flowers are long dead, the candles melted to nothingness and the dress hanging usless in a closet. And while we don't get to drink from our beautiful, Swaroski crystal flutes on our second anniversary since you will barely be in any shape to move, there is no place I would rather be than supporting you through this.
I love you. You have been a constant source of support and I hope that you think the same of me. I know our marriage isn't what either of us expected, maybe not even what we wanted. But it's what we have and we work together each day to make it better. We grow stronger and I love you more each day.
So tonight, as we wait with anxiety high and Malcolm plays, know I am thinking of all that has lead up to this moment. And that even during our darkest days, there is no one else I would rather wake up with tomorrow. Even when tomorrow means treaking to the hospital for a 5 hour wait as you undergo a procedure that determines your fate. I love you.
Your wife,
Ashley
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