Waiting for The Next Best Thing (Part 1)

First things first.  I have to be transparent and tell you that it turns out I kinda lied in my last post.
It wasn't my fault.  That blame goes to my tradition breaking husband, Adam..

On the way home from picking him up from work, then stopping at Costco, then stopping at Walgreens for a prescription, with five tired, hungry kids in the car...my man quietly states that he has one more place to stop. So he turns the car away from home and drives back into town.  Through the evening traffic, with definite purpose.

A while back, Adam had received a gift certificate for his bike commuting awesomeness and had saved that sucker for a snowy day.  He parked the car, and ran in to the shop behind us.  The kids in the back are craning their necks and wondering why we've stopped *again*, but I know.  The waiting is almost unbearable. So. Excited.

He walks back out a few minutes later and hands me a creation of beauty.  Steaming, frothy, sugary...and all mine. Let me tell you friends, that was the best cup of coffee. Ever.  Happy Valentine's Day to me.

Okay, got that off my chest.

Now on to the meaty stuff that will be the subject of this post and the next: Waiting.

This is a story about a bottle of wine.  (Sort-of.)

To tell this story properly, I need to back up a few years.  A long, long time ago, when we were but newly married young parents with stars in our eyes, we came to the University of Michigan so that Adam could pursue a PhD in biosciences.  After four years of hard work and sacrifice, he got his degree in immunology and moved on to a post-doctoral position that we hoped would lead to a faculty position down the road. Key words being, "we hoped."

In 2012, two years into this post-doc, we celebrated our ten year wedding anniversary.  After a decade of marriage and four kids, we felt some time away was in order.  Adam tried to make plans in secret, but since I do our finances each month -once the check cleared for the cabin reservation- the cat was out of the bag. Poor guy.  He really tried.  We were going back to where it all began: the honeymoon cabin in Cook Forest, PA. *sigh*

The weeks leading up to this break were some of the most stressful of our marriage lives.  Adam was in the middle of writing a grant that, if it were to fund, would allow him that path to success that we had been praying for.  There was so much sickness and warfare in our lives during that time that -even looking back- I'm amazed that we came out whole. And there was my best friend in the middle of it, trying desperately to battle through, while still producing his best writing ever, knowing that he must finish by the 10th of June so that we could LEAVE.  No pressure. *eye twitch*

But he did finish.  And we did leave.  Our children happily settled in with their grandparents, we drove off into the Allegheny mountains, and back in time.

It was a glorious week.  Adam was still sick for the first few days, unable to enjoy food...but such a trooper. In spite of his ailments, we canoed, hiked, and did all the things that we remembered loving on our first adventure together.  But this time we did it with a little life tucked under our belts, and so much more gratitude for the beauty and preciousness of silence and rest.

At the end of the week, on our way out of the forest, we stopped by a local winery.  We tasted many, and bought a few.  Our favorite of which was a strawberry wine.  We'll save this, we promised, for a celebration...a special occasion.  

And so, we tucked it away.