10 years ago
My husband crocheted me an afghan,
Big enough to cover our king sized bed,
With black and burgundy yarn.  

3 years ago
A small hole in the middle,
Grew larger and larger,
Until my entire body could slip through.
It was no longer usable.
I cut myself a small corner for keepsakes,
And tossed the rest in the dumpster.  

We’ve been married 9 years.
That is 3285 days of marriage.
3285 days of making coffee for each other in the morning,
Being a witness to the face palm moments,
The dorky dance moves,
Those stories we’ve told for the umpteenth time,
Trying and failing to break each other’s bad habits.

It’s been a long road,
Full of rough patches and mistakes,
But at the end of the day
We are glad to have each other.
The knitting may not have held up,
But our love for each other did.