It was the best summer of our lives. We knew it at the time — I’ll always be grateful for that — even if those around us were inclined toward demurring, prevaricating. I’m sure it felt premature, to declare something “the best” when there were still so many opportunities to surpass it, when we were still so young.
But each day was a golden disc, luminous and precious, and they stacked lazily on top of one another for months – “each disc a day, and the addition slow.”
Everything was new. I had never had a boyfriend, of course, so that was new, but I mean everything. I drove on new roads in my old town – roads I’d never needed to drive on before, because nothing that lay at the end of them had ever mattered. I listened to new music on his mixed cassette tapes: The Arcade Fire, Iron & Wine, Wilco, Bloc Party. I tried new foods, overcoming my limited palette in the hopes of impressing him, or at least not disappointing him: guacamole, gazpacho, pavlova, sushi, hot buttered lobster roll, chicken tikka masala.
We got our Indian fix from a little hole-in-the-wall in the city next door, and after our many trips the owner began recognizing us. This felt important: a new acquaintance who had never known us apart from one other. We laughed as we were ushered to the table by the window week after week.
Who wouldn’t want to put love on display?
Our favorite days, the best days, went like this: wake up slow. Converge on the McQuade’s parking lot with the group. Order deli sandwiches, squeeze into fewer cars. Drive to Watch Hill, make a decision about parking (pay $20 for the lot or risk a ticket?), then hoof it past the marina and over the dunes to a slice of sand on Napa Tree Point. Unfurl a towel. Lie in the sun. Toss the football. Splash in the waves. Talk, talk, talk with whomever could come that day.
We got quite a few tickets.
Then home for a quick shower, pull on a sundress. A few minutes later he’d pull back into my driveway and we’d head out, just the two of us this time – to Abbott’s, for dinner, squinting, the low sun glinting off the sound. Another place I’d never been, even though I’d lived in this town my whole life, too.
Then to game night. Someone’s parents’ house, the whole group again, or whoever could make it that evening. Cranium, usually, or poker, or Rock Band. Home before curfew, usually just.
We were not completely without responsibility, that summer. He worked at a seaside market, slicing ham and scooping potato salad and toasting bagels for beachgoers. He’d bring me home an unsold chocolate croissant after closing, by this point knowing enough (and feeling comfortable enough) to pull one of my mom’s wax-paper-wrapped burritos out of the freezer for his own late-night snack.
I worked at a tiny beach shack, at a tucked-away cove frequented only by nannies and toddlers. He’d bike miles round trip with a friend or two just to see me, rounding the corner of the deck sweating and grinning. I’d give them a shaved ice, the sanctioned offering for friends, then go back to reading my book in the sun when they left.
A letter arrived from college with my roommate’s name printed neatly in small black type. She called me a few days later, urged me to log onto Facebook now that we could guess at our college email addresses. Intrusive, all of it, an unwelcome reminder that a world beyond this summer was lurking.
Never mind.
We hiked, we kayaked at the cottage, we watched movies, we laid in the hammock and read books, we dove in the pool, we walked on the train tracks, we went to the casinos for Krispy Kreme, we played croquet in my backyard, we hopped the fence and flew high on the beachside swings in Groton under the moon. And when we weren’t with our friends or alone, my younger sister inexplicably became our third wheel, a heretofore unheard of circumstance in our somewhat-frosty relationship.
It’s easy to be generous when you’re in love.
We went skinny dipping once, wading deep into the pond before tossing our suits back to shore, everyone laughing and shrieking in the moonlight, and that was the night of our biggest argument. “Are you just going to do what everyone else does?” he shot at me later, a slight tremor revealing the fear about what we’d find, who we’d become when throttled beyond this golden summer, plucked up and placed somewhere we weren’t seen and known and loved.
This was the only stumble.
Otherwise – and this is not just hazy hindsight, I remember this with clarity and certainty – we knew this summer was the beginning, knew we would pass into marriage, and children, knew we would last. We knew it as surely as we knew our names.
But who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years?
I have had many blissful seasons since, many golden summers, mostly because our lives only became further entwined – but none like that first one. Our love feels quieter now, steadier, deeper. It is on this love that the engine of our marriage is run: being in love that summer was the explosion that started it.
We celebrated the twentieth anniversary of our first date in late January, and I couldn’t let it go by without sharing a few thoughts. Astute readers will recognize that I wove in a few lines from one of our ceremony readings, with many thanks to C.S. Lewis, as well as a line from my favorite poem.
Two monthly goals posts in a row – not usually what you can expect around here! Between all the beginning-of-year EFM fun and a post I meant to share last week in honor of our twentieth (!!) dativersary that ended up needing a bit more polish, here we are. (You’ll get the relationship post next week.) Until then, here is what’s on tap for the tiny-but-mighty month of February.
On my calendar: — The third annual Articles Club weekend away, a.k.a. Camp Clurb! I missed last year’s trip unexpectedly to be at my grandmother’s memorial service and so am especially happy to get to hang with the best gals around at the end of the month. — Another book swap! Could there be a more perfect bright spot in the doldrums of winter? I’m hosting with a dear friend again and we’ve chosen a “book lovers” theme due to our proximity to Valentine’s Day (with teatime food since we’re partying in the afternoon). — My birthday! It’s on a Friday this year, one of my days off each week. Last year it also fell on a day off, and I think I’m now spoiled forever: it was a true delight to spend the hours the kids were at school in a way that was simple, but designed to be uniquely pleasing to me. Promising myself I’ll make an equally good plan this year.
What I’m loving right now: — Y’all know I’m on a Defined Dish kick. Her chicken piccata meatballs are my newest favorite – so good! I usually serve them with fettucine and sautéed green beans. — We just bought Annie one of these okay-to-wake clocks in prep for moving her from her crib to her bed. It’s the third one in our family — the older two are quite fond of theirs. — Speaking of Annie, this is her absolute favorite picture book right now. (It’s been a favorite of all of our kids at one time or another.) We’ve read it nightly for the past few weeks, picking out one kid to follow each time. Her favorites are the girls from India and Japan :)
As a reminder, you can find allll the things I’ve loved over the last few years neatly organized right here!
What you’re loving right now:
This is where I highlight a few items here that have been popular in the last month with fellow readers, based on my analytics. Here’s hoping this will help you find something you’ll love!
— My Christmas card photo album. I actually just ordered a few more and am going to add a set of cards to one for each of my children! — The manners flip book we often use to supplement Team Thomas Tuesdays. — Our foyer shoe cabinet! It really is the prettiest shade of green. — My favorite simple v-neck white tee (closely tied with my beloved summer linen shift dress from the same brand) — This medium hair clip I slipped into my own stocking :) I like the look, but am still figuring out the best way to get all my hair caught up.
What I read in January: — Best Family Ever | This is a middle grade book June pressed into my hand after finishing it herself. I’m delighted she loved it and appreciated the the closet-knit family at the center. As an adult I found it a bit too saccharine :) — The Evening and the Morning | In addition to my official personal book club picks, I also committed to re-reading a portion of the Kingsbridge series this year, starting with this one (the prequel), which I last read in 2022. It held up – I may even have enjoyed it more this time around. — Well Lived| This is Sally Clarkson’s newest book. While I enjoyed it, it is quite different from my favorite of her books, The Lifegiving Home. With full-color pictures, pull quotes, and scripture on most pages, it reads more like a devotional than a how-to book. Still, I finished it feeling very endeared to her.
Revisiting my January goals: Inquire with a designer friend for our bathroom project (Inquired and she is not available to help. I’ve emailed a second gal and am waiting to hear back!) Print 2024 Instagram photos Set up our 2025 budget Make a loose plan for this year’s read alouds (V. v. excited for all of them) Confirm a reunion date (Also v. excited for this.) Make a scripture ring for our table with the verses we’ve memorized so far (Bought this one and am now writing out the verses we’ve memorized so far.) Prep for the book swap (Door hangers are in my possession!) Print photos for our Christmas album Send an email to friends in my county encouraging them to email their school board reps about the potential phone ban (Did not get to this – moving to February!)
I also planned to run every weekend (check!!), practice the piano several times a week (I averaged twice a week), clean out my phone screenshots daily (check!), and keep up with our Hebrews reading plan (off the rails).
February goals: — Finalize the itinerary for our reunion and run it by a friend to get feedback — Record June’s birthday interview — Choose a PCP and call about making an appointment — Sit down with John and spend 1-2 hours going over what I have so far for the TCF audio course and getting his feedback — Choose and begin a new Bible reading plan — Make classroom valentines with the kids — Put our scripture ring into action at the table — Prep to speak at a school on behalf of TCF – my first time! — Send that phone ban friend email (If any of you are also in Wake County and want in on it, just raise your hand in the comments! I can nab your email from the backend, you don’t have to post it publicly :))
Let’s talk birthdays! I’d love to hear: if you had about six hours during the day on a weekday and you had no work or childcare responsibilities, how would you spend it? What would you do? Would friends be invited along? I can’t wait to hear!
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hi! my name is em.
This is where I share the marvelous people, places, and things I love.
