Sacred Places

Some places become sacred to us because of the memories they hold. It could be a park bench, a gas station at mile marker 58, a porch swing, a hidden cove, or even an old house with the windows broken in. This untitled duck pond is one for me.

More than three years ago, my amazing husband Stephen and I married in Utah. We planned to escape (with 13 other people...study abroad trip) to England just a few weeks after we got married, so we didn't have a ton of cash to blow (because college students and adulting and ENGLAND) and we decided to stay in Utah for our "first honeymoon."

On the last day of our spontaneous adventures in the Beehive State, we went on a walk at sunset at this local duck pond in some corporate district. The weather was atypically cool, the sky was a watercolor painting of pastels, ducks were waddling down the path and I was with my best friend in the world. Then it suddenly clicked. We are married.

Then it got quiet. Stephen wrapped an arm around me, we sat and smiled. We just were.

It was one of the most tender, happy moments of my life.

Just a week or so ago, we headed for Utah for my Grandpa's funeral. Grandpa actually performed our marriage ceremony, so it was doubly sweet to revisit the beginning of our married lives together and remember him. As we walked around, I remembered even more from that day three years before--the footbridge, the view of the mountains, and the look on Stephen's face when he said that he loved me.

Go back to your sacred places; cherish them, take photos of them to help you remember the moments that give you the most joy. Write about them and re-experience them with newfound appreciation and joy.

Choose your love, love your choice.