The title is far more poetic than I can promise to make the post.
We had another jam-packed weekend planned, and then, something happened. My parents suddenly needed to attend a funeral (luckily, it was the funeral of a man who seemed quite ready to begin eternity, and the funeral filled an 1100 seat church to overflowing), and our plans to hit the beach with them and the dog evaporated into thin air.
And just like that, Saturday became a vast, empty day, but the most beautiful kind of empty, the unexpected kind of empty.
For the most part, we left our beautiful Saturday gloriously empty. We slept for 10 hours, much to the joy of the cat who switched between curling up beside my head and snuggling under my arm on a regular rotation.
I rose from bed and almost immediately began a long, seratonin producing workout on the Wii. WG switched between doing his own workout and checking job sites, oh, and making the cat make funny noises.
The, it was lunch time. We ate, we watched a movie, we relaxed as the sun shone through the windows and the cat slept soundly in its rays.
The word "wedding" did not cross our lips. Nor did any of the phrases associated with this stage of wedding planning: favor, program, RSVP. Nope. Without even trying, we created a space free of wedding talk.
We did nothing. And it meant everything.