On Saturday, Katy and I spent all day downtown on errands for the wedding. It was a full day, exhausting really, and at the end there was less to show for it than we had hoped; maybe a few new ideas for invitations and, after a conference call squeezed in during lunch at Macy's food court, a strong lead on a Dallas photographer.
That night was tough for us. We were both restless. Neither the lack of productivity for the day nor the carryout pizza we had for dinner sat well. We tried watching a movie, but we were each miles away. She left for home early, checked out, done. I couldn't blame her.
On Sundays, we try to observe a sabbath from wedding talk, but there was one more paper store to check out for invitations. Initial excitment gave way to practical realities. Another confusing and fruitless afternoon.
We went back to my apartment. The Cowboys were playing the Bears. We had chili, dozed off and on lightly. Again, restless. The weight of the decisions to be made, tasks to be checked off the list, budgets to be reconciled, all piled up in the back of our minds. We were overwhelmed, and each too afraid to admit it.
It came to a head for me yesterday. More confusing/potentially costly news about my car. A reprimand at my second job. A swing in weather patterns bringing an allergy attack. The combined stresses instigated a migraine. I had to drop off Katy's car at her place last night, and I warned her, "I'm only going to stay a few minutes. I just need to get home to bed. I can't take much more of today."
Tonight we had to repeat the car hand-off. She picked me up at work, then drove us both to her place, where she parked in front of the building. As she reached over and turned on the hazard lights, she asked, "Want to talk about it?"
So we sat in her Toyota on Wellington Avenue and unpacked it all. The frustrations of the prior few days, the difficulty of seeing the other so stressed, the uncertainty of knowing how to help, and all the worries and fears it triggered in me about my ability to provide for her, protect us.
Katy listened patiently, looked me in the eyes, held my hand, and spoke to me about her love for me, her belief in us, the promises of our faith, the reality of both the inevitability of some failure and the great things which had already been done. She touched my face, kissed me gently, rested her forehead on mine. As we sat silent for a moment, I grabbed a few breaths and made the choice to trade an overwhelming worry for an overabundant love.