Passing the one-year mark

It was one of those days where I had a deep intense craving for rich dense chocolate cake. Ever have those? The tired workday called for a little chocolate pick-me-up and I pondered where I could get ahold of such goodies. And then I remembered. Wedding. Cake. In. freezer. YES!

Earlier this month, T & I had celebrated our 1-year anniversary but in the busyness of the day, we failed to carry out the tradition of eating our wedding cake leftovers. Now I know some people don't end up liking their wedding cake, but T & I absolutely adored it. The cake is layers of dense sweet rich chocolate and yellow cake, layered with strawberry and almond buttercream frosting. I didn't really have a chance to appreciate it on said wedding day (when camera flashes are popping all around you, and suddenly you get a forkful of cake coming at you, it's hard to concentrate on cake), but was overjoyed to find that the caterers had packed away the top for us.


I found myself nibbling away at its cake slices in the few months afterward (sorry, couldn't wait till the 1 year). And sometime come Spring, told myself I'd save the rest for the one-year. I've heard sad sad stories of freezer burn and disappointment, and feared the worst as I pulled it out from the back of the freezer. Much to my surprise, the cake tasted exactly the same! Much praise to T's idea of slicing up the cake and divying it up into freezer Ziploc storage bags and then stashing those away in tupperware. GENIUS. Freezer Ziploc bags - YES it does really work!

It's quite amazing - how here we are past our 1-year mark, and every day our marriage grows sweeter. Cheers to 1 year of growing old and up together! Cheers to God for His gracious providence and mercy! I am so blessed and humbled.

I cannot also make note of our first anniversary without mentioning this - my sweet old landlord passed away last week suddenly from cardiac arrest on Inauguration Day. It's ironic that when the majority of America was celebrating a new start to history, his ended. To us, he was more than just a landlord who fixed leaky faucets and collected rent checks. He was our next door neighbor, who never failed to sit down on our couch and tell us stories of his hometown, Italian heritage, and family with a gleam of pride in his eyes. We live in the house he bought next door for his grown-up children, and overtime he inched his way into our life as a grandfather figure I never had. T & I always felt blessed to have started off our marriage with such a nice landlord, and he indelibly left imprints on our first year.

I mean, the moment we first met him, T & I looked at each other and had the same anxious thought - is he going to last? It was evident that after prior serious heart problems, his body was frail and about to give way anytime. But his heart was always joyful, with a twinkle in his eyes he'd joke around with us, and answer the phone with a cheery "Hello!" and reply with an "Okidoke!" It almost fooled us. So as it does, we were still shocked when our fear became a reality.

I'm still having trouble with the fact that I will never see or talk to him again. And that his wife of 53 years now sits alone in the grand house he built himself where they once raised 6 kids. I am helpless being hit with the fact that life on Earth is fleeting, and God is sovereign. And really, I have no control.