February.
A Love Letter.
2021.
Will you be my Valentine?
Dear Jeffrey,
This is our 16th Valentine’s Day together and I realized I’ve never asked you to be my Valentine.
Even though we’re married, or maybe especially because we’re married, I think it’s important that we ask each other this question every year.
I’m so happy that I met you at that party on Great Jones Street 16+ years ago.
But I also remember being so sad in those early dating years when I wouldn't hear from you for what felt like forever after a date.
And I’m so happy that we moved in together 11ish years ago.
But I also remember being sad and not knowing how to talk about my feelings, so I would just cry in bed lying next to you while you were sleeping.
And I’m so happy that we got married almost 7 years ago.
But I also remember being so sad when I found out I had PCOS, which made it harder for us to start our family.
And I’m so happy that we now have two beautiful boys.
But most of all, I’m so happy that you allow me to be sad.
“But if happiness is a skill, then sadness is, too. Perhaps through all those years at school, or perhaps through other terrors, we are taught to ignore sadness, to stuff it down into our satchels and pretend it isn’t there. As adults, we often have to learn to hear the clarity of its call. That is wintering. It is the active acceptance of sadness. It is the practice of allowing ourselves to feel it as a need. It is the courage to stare down the worst parts of our experience and to commit to healing them the best we can. Wintering is a moment of intuition, our true needs felt keenly as a knife.” — Wintering, Katherine May
Thank you for supporting me on my Tadasana Mama journey.
So, will you be my Valentine?
Love, Kristine
_______
One Year Later.
2022.
Will you be my Valentine?
Dear Jeffrey,
Remember in 2008 when I bought you the most accurate wristwatch? The hour hand reads "remember", the minute hand "you will die". We had only been dating for a few years at that point, but I thought it would be the perfect birthday gift for you.
I now have my own Mr Jones Watch to remind myself that I will die too.
And remember when we were going to Paris in 2009? I remember waiting for the plane to take off from New York. My anxiety was increasing each minute we waited on the runway. I started to think something is definitely wrong with the plane. Then I thought oh no what if we die. And then I thought oh no what if you just die and I live. Then I turned to you and asked “do you want to be buried or cremated?”
We included in our unofficial will that we want to be cremated. But, we did not include what, where, or when we would like our ashes to be scattered if we so wish. I did some research and there is a permit application process for scattering cremated remains at Yosemite National Park. This is one of our favorite places, so thinking that could be a good option. What do you think?
And remember three days ago, on your 46th birthday, when I gave you a framed 4K weeks poster? It includes these tiny boxes that correspond to one week in an average 88-year lifespan, and every filled-in box is one that you have already lived. They say it’s slightly terrifying, but also extremely effective. Seeing it on a daily basis will push you to take action on your life, enjoy every moment, and focus on the things that matter.
Because, “you get to spend your finite time focused on a few things that matter to you, in themselves, right now, in this moment.” — Four Thousand Weeks, Oliver Burkeman
So, will you still be my Valentine?
Love, Kristine
P.S. I invite you to meditate with me.
