This morning, Meredith and I woke up and walked our old man down to the beach. We sat on the rocks, soaked up the sun, ran across the sand, and rolled in the seaweed (well one of us did, at least).
12 years passed in the blink of an eye. 12 years ago, we lived 1,000 miles away from this beach. We weren’t married. She wasn’t a photographer and I wasn’t a web developer. It’d be two years before we’d graduate and move to Maine. Three before we’d find our house near Willard beach. Seven before we’d tie the knot. We were kids, just scratching the surface of what it meant to be adults, and in a moment of serendipity, we made the best decision we’ve made in our entire lives.
Tonight, we took our buddy out to dinner and fed him deviled eggs and short ribs under our table – giggling like the kids we were 12 years ago to the day that we brought Orvis home.