Our memories are just stories. Many times not so filled with facts.
A couple of years into our marriage, both in our mid-20s, Chris and I started the discussion about kids. The result was that we decided the time was now.
I remember feeling excited, nervous, optimistic, and apprehensive at once.
I can vividly recall that specific conversation. It was a weekday, and we were eating dinner on the couch, as we regularly did, watching some reruns of Friends. An episodic point about children came up and launched us into our discussion. By the end of our conversation, I was sure, but Chris was not so sure — but we decided now was the time.
Excited. Nervous. Optimistic. Apprehensive.
Chris and I recently replayed that conversation, and apparently, she remembers it totally different — except for dinner. For starters, it wasn’t a single conversation but a series. No, we didn’t start it on the couch on a weekday. It was the weekend, and we were out to dinner in the city. The conversation started there, but then lingered over several days. I was the apprehensive one, and she was sure.
Who’s story is right?
Who knows. We disagreed on the facts, but we agreed on how we felt.
Excited. Nervous. Optimistic. Apprehensive.
Our stories matched up our feelings not the facts.
More to come…
