Our little secret

Sundays were always the hardest days for me while Ed was in Iraq. I could say it was because of our weekly devotional church meetings where we'd gather with friends and family to pray and worship. But, we're not religious and have never been to church together. I could say it was because of lazy mornings spent lounging in bed until noon, but you already know we had a 10 month old at the time, so that wasn't even a probability. Or maybe it was cheering on our favorite team together during Sunday Night Football. However, we're not sports fans at all, and I'm not sure either of us really understands football anyways.

No. I can't say any of that. Because the real reasons Sunday's were hard was simply because of a site we'd come to love together. Postsecret.com isn't a well kept secret on the internet- millions of people go there every Sunday, just like Ed and I did. But what I loved were seeing the new cards each week together, seeing each others reactions, and spending time talking about the ones that really hit close to home or really made us cringe. It was something we did every Sunday morning, like most people read the newspaper or go to church. There's no greater way to delve into the unknown about each other then other people's secrets.

I'm reminded of this because it's 2AM and Postsecret has been updated, but I refuse to look at it. Ed's currently laying in bed snoring and not once in the past year and a half that he's been home have I looked at it that site without him.

It seems simple, and it seems silly. A website updated once a week. How stupid can you get? But, it reminds me of a time when I looked at it alone every Sunday and had to wait until he got back from a mission to talk to him about it- which may have been that evening, or a week later.

We used to always say we would work so hard to make sure we didn't take each other for granted again after he came home. That lasted all of about 2 months. Once you get back to real life, all the things you learned over the course of that time takes a backseat to the here and now.

That doesn't mean I'm not occasionally caught off guard with a deep pang of remembrance, which makes me regret all the more that I can't remember more often what that year apart felt like. Sometimes, when I least expect it, I'm reminded how lucky I am that at least he's here to share all of this with- even the extremely bad shit.. at least he's here.