Tonight we decided to bring out the box. As Lara procrastinated from completing her sweep of the house (which I am utterly amazed at her work), she let her nostalgic side come out, looking through old picture of us that included painting the K-Life house together before we even started dating.
This is the night Lara came over to help me paint the K-Life house kitchen checkered back in the beginning of 2008. Who knew that we would have some much fun?!
After, I roped Lara into hanging with some of my friends: Atefeh, RockyB, Fivi, and Wedemeyer.
Lara is a sucker for the nostalgic. Mention a memory from childhood, college, or come home with a new haircut and she will already be missing them, listing twenty memories along the way. In a lot of ways, I envy her. Sometimes I forget the meaning of the past that brought us where we are at.
So tonight we brought out the box; a box filled with notes, letters, drawings, poems, pictures, old napkins with chicken scratches dating back to the summer of 2007. Four years documented in words, phrases, hidden meanings, dreams, confusions, and images.
A letter I wrote Lara while I lived with the Jones' after I broke my elbow and before I left to work at KAA. The beginnings of something we didn't know anything about. Just I liked her.
And it has turned into this great pile of meaning
Ironic we have put it in a Priority Mail box.
It's crazy looking back at the things we wrote each other. Each putting forth our best but still trying to not be too vulnerable. It's like listening to a waltz on a record player with some fumbles, some scratches, and some glorious moves. But the one constant rhythm, in three quarter time, was a gracious love from God intertwining two being together. That's the beauty of remembering. As C.S. Lewis, we spend so much of our time trying to recreate our memories when they are not yet complete. The fulness is still being written. The quartet still pulses. Our feet keep gliding along in the glorious dance. There still are some fumbles, tuggings for the lead, some scratches on the surface but the beat of His love pulses through us. There is no other one I would like to dance with than you, darling.