My husband went to Redbox last night and we watched The Vow because he's always been really good at balancing the action movies and the war films and the comedies with a good chick flick. He loves me that way. He's not a selfish movie watcher. He also voluntarily changed a high volume of diapers when our boys were babies. Every teenage girl should be taught that she must find herself a man who will watch chick flicks and change diapers.
So we watched and it's really nothing if not thought provoking. I mean, seriously. What would I do if I woke up tomorrow in a hospital bed with massive brain trauma? What would I do if I had no recollection of my husband and every single memory that we share together was gone? What would I do if I thought I was still engaged to He Who Shall Not Be Named?
"But I'm in love with *insert real name of He Who Shall Not Be Named*!"
Troy would shake his head, "No. No, you're not. Trust me on this one."
What if I couldn't remember the butterflies that took up residence in my stomach every time I thought about him for the first year we were together? What if I forgot the way he looked sitting across from me at Bennigan's on our first date? What if I didn't know that fireworks really do explode and that they just so happened to shoot into the sky the first time he kissed me?
I can't bear the thought of forgetting his arms around me or having no recollection of all the times I've almost keeled over and died because he's hysterically funny in his own unique way. I can't imagine looking through our wedding album and having no idea that it was one of the happiest days of my entire life and also like a really weird dream. What if I forgot that I kind of floated through that day and it felt like I was walking on a cloud and I smiled so much that my cheeks almost broke in two. What if I forgot the way the door sounded when it closed and we were alone in the limo. Just him. And me. And our brand new life together.
What if I couldn't remember that he carried me through infertility, shielding me, protecting me, holding me. What if each moment of our adoption journey was wiped out of my mind and I forgot how much my husband's patience, faith, and forgiveness astounded me during that time? What if I didn't know, with every fiber of my being, that he is good and honest and respectful and wonderful? What if, suddenly, I forgot that the only place I want to be is with him.
On a beach.
In the sun.
But on the beach, in the sun, with him.
What if I couldn't remember any of it?
Would he win me again? Would I fall in love with him again? If the slate was wiped clean, would I once again know what it's like to know that I know he's the one?