I hadn’t heardof the Azores Islands when Carter suggested it as a honeymoon destination, but he only had to say “tiny island in the Atlantic where hydrangeas grow wild along the roads,” and I was all in.
When we got married in March, we told everyone we were planning a honeymoon for the off-season, mostly so people didn’t question why we didn’t take one right after the wedding. But we never actually planned a trip.
Until we fell in love and decided maybe we deserved a honeymoon after all.
I haven’t been disappointed. This place is magical.
The roads are ridiculously narrow and frequently blocked by herds of cattle. And the beaches aren’t particularly beachy. The Azores Islands are volcanic, so the coastline is defined by rocky cliffsides and crashing waves.
But the hiking has been unreal, we’ve seen at least half a dozen whales, and I’ve eaten my weight in Azores pineapples which are smaller and sweeter and absolutely perfect.
Not that the locationtrulymatters. I think I could go anywhere with Carter and still have a good time.
I said as much to Anna when we talked this morning, and she playfully rolled her eyes, then grumbled something about newlyweds. But I’m determined to soak this up as long as I possibly can. I believe her when she says it won’t always feel this perfect. That eventually, we’re going to have to work a little to make sure our marriage stays healthy.
But I’m happy to ride this wave as long as I possibly can.
Besides. It hasn’tallbeen perfect. We’ve been fighting over the thermostat in the adorable stone cottage we’re renting all week long. I like to sleep with the windows open, feel the sea breeze against my face, and he likes to seal the place up tight and crank the temperature down to sixty-four degrees. Something about optimal sleeping conditions, blah, blah, blah.
He ends up in nothing but his boxer briefs under a sheet while I’m wearing two layers of flannel and wool socks with the comforter folded in half to give me double the warmth.
He thinks my body temperature must be abnormally low. I think he spends too much time on the ice and his perspective is warped.
I do love it that when our room is a little colder, he has to use his furnace of a body to warm me up. There are definitely worse things in life than sleeping in his arms.
Now, on the evening before we’re flying home, I’m on the back patio of our cottage, waiting for Carter to take a shower, sending a million texts to my brother.
Right before we left, I finished Carter’s painting, and if Miles can figure out how to hang it without putting a hole in my living room wall, it’ll be up by the time we get home.
Miles
This thing is enormous. I don’t know how to get it on the wall.
Sarah
Don’t try it by yourself. Is there anyone there who can help you?
Miles
I brought Poppy. She wanted to visit Gordie.
Sarah
Is there anyone older than seven who can help you? Is Kim around?
Carter’s mom has been staying at our house, cat sitting Gordie for the week. We had so many people we could have asked to check on Gordie—his mom didn’t need to fly all the way in from Texas—but something tells me she wanted to spend some time with Theo.
He’s been seeing a therapist this summer, which he says has been great, but I know first-hand that it’s also a lot of work. After a month of bi-weekly sessions with my therapist, I managed to go to exactlyonehockey game of this past season: the sixth game of the Eastern Conference Finals in which the Jaguars lost to the Warriors and fell out of the running for the Stanley Cup.
It was a close game, and I hate that they lost, though I think a part of Carter didn’t mind. When they do win a Stanley Cup—because they will eventually—he wants his brother to be on the ice beside him.
Either way, the night still felt like a win to me. Now that I’ve gotten the first one behind me, I think next season is going to be a lot easier. In retrospect, it almost feels silly. That I let fear rule so many of my decisions for so long. But therapy has also taught me that I deserve to have grace with myself. Ican learn from my past experiences, but I don’t have to live in them. I can move forward with intention. Be a better version of myself—for me, for the rest of my family, for Carter.
Miles
Kim is lounging by the pool. I think she’s asleep.
Sarah
