Tokens

This was going to be a post about celebrating momentous occasions.This was going to be a post about how Zack and I have been married two months today. How I walked to a local chocolaterie over my lunch break and brought him home a quarter pound of dark-chocolate-covered espresso beans in a crumpled brown paper bag to celebrate. I was going to write about how he drove far out of town to find a local farmer selling crisp ears of freshly picked sweet corn, bought an armful and marinated them in lime and tequila all day so that we could have a celebratory dinner tonight, just the two of us.

But then this afternoon, there was a storm.

It was a short storm, but wickedly violent, blowing trees out of the ground, and dashing debris from one one side of the street to the other. It rained. Thunder rumbled and the computer monitors in our small office blinked knowingly, as if frightened by the flickers of electricity in the clouds.

When I returned home to our apartment, Zack was already cleaning up the mess.

My lovely red geraniums (a wedding gift from my mother, who sometimes just gives the perfect things) had crashed from the painted windowsill to the hardwood floor, scattering earthy clumps of dirt and bruised flower petals out over the living room floor. The shattered pot (also a wedding present) had been a token from an old friend.

The herbs that lined our white kitchen windowsill met a similar fate...but their pots were far less costly and not filled with quite so much sentiment.

We cleaned up our apartment, doing our best to sweep the dirt and mop up the puddles of rainwater before the two combined to form a more complicated foe. There was little time for a celebratory meal and we soon had to step back out into the drizzling remnants of the storm.

This was going to be a post about romance and celebrating two months of marriage. Instead, it is about tokens and friendships.

Because even though my beloved geranium nearly met its demise, I was able to replant it an another pot from a newer friend. That pot was also a gift given in celebration of our marriage, and as I pressed the damp soil around the bent and battered stalk, I more fully understood the blessing of friendship. Friends who remain supportive after twenty years, and friends who encourage you after only knowing you a little while.

Best friends who scheme with your husband to surprise you with a weekend visit, because they both knew you needed to lie on a blanket in the park all Sunday afternoon and just talk.

And then those also-married friends, whom you are realizing you couldn't survive in a new city without. The ones who text you when they are bored and want see the new Batman movie (but aren't sure they should). The ones with whom you start a weekly Bible study, just the four of you. Because even though you might rather stay at home eating chocolate-covered espresso beans instead of venturing out in the rain, the token of friendship extended from one couple to another, is a thing worth celebrating indeed.