Unforgettable

"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable though near or far."- Nat King Cole & Natalie Cole

This classic song is the one my father and I danced to on my wedding day. I can remember the song starting, swaying gracefully across the dance floor, and the look in my father's eyes. We laughed as he made funny remarks and got choked up as he told me how beauitful I looked and how proud he was of me. It is a moment that is truly unforgettable.

My father is a man unlike any other. He is brilliant, funny, sarcastic, talented, and protective, mabye even over protective. My respect for him has only blossomed over the years, even though we used to have heated discussions growing up. Discussions that happened because, according to my mom, we were too much alike. Yet, he held the key to my heart growing up and guarded it with his all.

On thanksgiving, I was texting my mom (yes, she is that cool) and we were talking about how our thanksgivings were going on separate coasts. A few minutes passed and then I recieved a text message that said, "Tonight we went around the table and shared what we were most thankful for this year. Daddy said he was thankgul for a godly man to take care of you and walking you down the aisle and passing you onto him was one of the happiest moments of his life." My eyes still get misty and my heart melts as I retype the short text. This was the father that no guy I brought home was good enough for me, the same man who didn't want his little girl to grow up, and the dad that was hesitant when I brought Greg back to Virginia to "meet my parents". And here, just a short year and a half later, the father that says the moment he gave me away was his happiest moment. Talk about a powerful statement.

My father may be thankful for the godly husband I have been graciously blessed with, but I have to say that I am grateful for the godly father I was given to guide me to marrying that godly man. My father set the bar high and gave an impeccable example of what a husband and father should look like. And for that I am eternally grateful. The relationship I have with my dad is priceless and I would only pray he lives so my children can see what a godly grandpa looks like.

For these reasons, and many, many more my father will always be as Nat King Cole so effortlessly sang, "Unforgettable, thats what you are. Unforgettable though near or far." I love you dad!

The little things in life..

After a long weekend in Los Angeles our fridge was shouting to be filled. As we were grocery shopping I stumbled upon a whole section devoted to dairy free ice cream! It took me a while to decide on which one, yet finally (and proudly) threw in a small tub of "Turtle Trails". Vanilla ice cream with chocolate crunchies and a ribbon of caramel. When we got home I excitedly got myself a bowl of my new dessert and curled up on the couch next to Greg. For the next five minutes all I could say was, "Mmmmmm! Mmmm!" and answer Greg's strange looks with, "Hey. Its been seven years since I have had ice cream this good." (In case you haven't guessed I have been allergic to dairy for the last seven years.)

This small moment of extreme bliss made me realize it is the small things in life that are truly precious. Like when I catch Greg's eyes from across a full room and know I am loved. Or when he magically makes my text reappear when I accidently erase it (yes, that just happened). When I get a heart felt note from my mom or a random phone call from my dad. A text from my sister-in-law informing me that I am still the number one aunt in my adorable niece's eyes. Or when God captures my heart in a time of worship and all I can do is respond by raising my hands and singing my heart out. Moments that can be overlooked, mabye even seem small, but melt my heart.

... Oh the things that I can learn from dairy-free Turtle Trails ice cream ...

From Miss to Mrs.

So what can I say? I love being a wife! I have dreamt of it since I was just a little girl with a towel draped over my head, attempting to resemble a veil. Yet those day dreams always ended abruptly when my dad reminded me it was time for bed.

The day I  became a wife was unlike any other. Certain moments I remember vividly and will be written on my heart forever. Like chatting excitedly with Greg over breakfast, anticipation for what was to come. The way his eyes shone and smile warmed my heart. Or the countess beauty products that were scattered about the quiant salon where several hours were spent. The quiet drive out to the wedding location with my mom, my true best friend. We shared memories and savored the precious time together. I will always remember the first time I saw my father, looking handsome in his crisp tux. His hug was tender and his words comforting. And of course, the moment when I saw my teary eyed groom and began the walk down the aisle to become his wife.

All of my dreaming came true and our wedding day was truly magical. What I could have never dreamt of in all my years as a child was what it would be like, not just to be married, but married to Gregory Paul Triplett. And that, is where the real story begins...

A first step...

As I sat curled up on our couch next to my handsome husband, Greg Triplett, I excitedly announced, "I think I am going to become a blogger." With a sparkle in his big blue eyes and a quick nod he affirmed that it would be a "fabulous idea." (His true words!) So, that is how it all began.

I used to write all the time. I would write about love, the joy of the holidays, or just let my imagination run and allow the ideas to flow onto paper. Writing has a way of allowing what is in my mind and heart to come alive. It gives ideas breath and I get to see them dance on the pages as I progress. Yet, writing is an art. One of mystery, beauty, and like many other art forms; takes practice. Writing started becoming less frequent when I embarked upon my journey into dental hygiene school. More and more responsibility was added to my plate, I found myself with less down time, and my head became full with terms, tests, and teachings. In the span of the two years in school the art of writing became rusty. Now, that I have completed my schooling it is time to dust off the art form and begin to see the world as vividly as I once did. So here we go!

PS Thanks babe, for knowing I needed a little nudge :-)