Words Fall Through Me

Yes. It looks like a prom picture. Our babysitter, aka our nephew Anderson, took this photo before we headed off to a Valentine's Dance put on by some of our friends. And yes, I am wearing a corsage. Kind of dorky, but I just loved being one of two ladies at the dance with a corsage. (Because you just know how I love to be envied.)


And to say I shook my tail feather would be a gross understatement. There were certainly times when Sloan would whisper into my ear, "Remember we have to see these people tomorrow morning at church" and at least twice I heard the phrase, "Holy cow, look at my spiritual leader dance." Umm, well. It took my momma nine months to make it, so hell yeah, I'm gonna shake it. Four (or was it five?) glasses of pink wine helped.


But more than because I had that awesome high of just getting my groove on with my buddies and husband (not necessarily in that order), I had a wonderful time Saturday night. I am still a bit hungover from the thrill of it all.


There was a moment Saturday night that simply reflecting on makes my eyes water. Sloan and I were dancing to "Falling Slowly" from the Once Soundtrack. And despite the fact that we were in the middle of a crowded dance floor, really, it was just us. My head was buried in his chest, eyes closed, and he pulled my hand to his face and kissed it. He started to talk to our good friends, Shannon and Hatch, and I had to tell him to shut up because he was missing it. Missing that as my breathing slowed I was remembering. Remembering that I was home. In his arms.

My wandering heart safely moored.

There is nothing quite like being his. That sense of belonging. That sense that when people say his name it is just natural to include the "and Elizabeth" and vice versa. No longer were we separate, but two people who were created to be together. Not two halves coming together, as in 'my better half'--but two wholes coming together to make one new thing.


For once, I am at a loss for what I felt and feel for my Valentine. My sweet Sloan. So I will borrow words from the great poet, John Donne---

If they be two, they are two so

As stiff twin compasses are two ;

Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show

To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,

Yet, when the other far doth roam,

It leans, and hearkens after it,

And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,

Like th' other foot, obliquely run ;

Thy firmness makes my circle just,

And makes me end where I begun.