December 2011, between Madrid and Seville, Spain
There was absolutely nothing about the first day of our honeymoon that went as planned. Flights no longer existing, lost baggage, lost cell phone, missed train, wasted money, Burger King for lunch.
When things didn’t go as planned, I got angry at Dan. I assumed that if he was a little more organized or a little more focused or a little more thorough, none of this would have happened. (Not the case at all, in reality.)
So, happy honeymoon, honey, but I’m angry about the money we’ve lost and the time we’ve wasted and the luggage I packed now being who knows where but not on this train with us. We were headed south of Madrid to Seville to spend three nights.
I was emotionally and physically exhausted. And Dan, the sweet, patient husband he was, was pursuing me and attempting to comfort me still. I glared out the window at the olive trees whizzing by.
While I was staring out the window, I noticed Dan had pulled out a pen. He was writing something on his train ticket. When he finished, he put it on the little table between us and slowly pushed it toward me.
This sweet, patient, kind husband is turning 28 tomorrow. I admire him deeply. He has taught me to be a better me by the example he sets each day. Crazy about him.