2/11: full stomachs, full hearts

A full, full Saturday today.

Awoke to three piles of laundry to be done and hung to dry, +Swiffer x2, whew.

Brunched with the brunch crew where we concocted a frittata and ate Milanos and Brusselses and squeezed ourselves into each other’s lives — catching up on goings on and gray decisions and macaron-eating plans in the near future.

Drove to Merk’s and hmm’ed and hemm’ed over outfit decisions and brushed on some BB cream before rushing out to the monuments where Danielle told us we were superstars and made us do the forehead-to-forehead pose even though I protested cause that’s SO cheezy. But excited and giddy at the prospect of our engagement photos in a coupla weeks. 🙂

Headed, next, to Rockville, where we met with Mark’s biological dad and his family. Dinner’ed with them, feeling kind of tired and unenergetic because we had already cheezed and smiled our way through the entire afternoon, and my smiling muscles were pretty tired.

Post-processing the dinner meetup, though, in the car, I realized that some of the unenergy had been something more like uninvestment — not just cause of tired smile muscles, but because of cranky heartstrings. It had been difficult and jarring to see this new family unit seemingly so content and together, when Mark had so missed out on having a dad in that way.

Mark, though, didn’t seem to have any of these feelings; he was smiley and glad for their gladness. He says that he’s so happy for his dad. So happy that they seem so happy together. That this all seems really good for his dad. That his new family gives him the opportunity to be there for a family in a way that he didn’t get to, the first time. Mark was seeing redemption where I was feeling resentfulness.

I know it’s cause Mark’s had more time to live this reality, to process the messiness, to come to terms and make peace, after lots of real turmoil — and that my small feelings here are just a fraction of what he must have had already processed, for years. Clearly, he’s had more time to be invested and to pray through it all with true ownership, and even grieved, yeah, grieved over it, I’m sure, grief much greater than the bitterness I was tasting.

But I can’t help but admire this guy. For his genuine goodheartedness and his ability to forgive and his patience and — dare I say it? — Christ-like love.

We drove home on GW parkway with this beemer tailgating us with its high beams on and I spent a good five minutes trying to convince Mark that it was a good idea to turn his own high beams on, once they had passed us, “to teach them that this is not okay.” Vindictive, yup.

Mark, of course, convinced me otherwise. That it would probably do more harm than good; that there were more people on the road than just us and them; that they might actually not even know that their high beams are on, slash what if they are old people who really needed the lights… That last one, I had a sassy comment for, but still, Mark won the argument and we drove the rest of the way singing along to Disney songs via esspotify.

“Let it goooo, let it gooooo.”

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