[reason 13] 27

I suppose reason 13 could be 13, not 27. Or both 13 and 27. Or 113. Or 1996. But lets go with 27.

"27" is my standard number-based answer. Or 72. But mostly 27. How many of something do we have / need? 27. How long until...? 27 minutes or hours or days or weeks. How many ice cubes do I want in my drink? 27. I'm not sure why my children are still surprised to hear that answer to their questions. 

This year ... this Friday the 13th ... today ... the answer is also 27. That is, if you ask me and Jim how many years we've been married. 27.  Really, this time. I did the math. Twice.

We were married on January 13, 1996, the day after an ice storm, when I was sure that we wouldn't have any more than twenty-seven guests at our wedding because our out-of-state family members kept calling saying they were unable to make it. On a day when the pastor was mopping my parents' floor and later sang "New York, New York" with the band after accidentally catching the garter (he's married). On a day when my Dad asked me if I was nervous and I said no, not at all, because I was marrying my best friend; and when my other bestie didn't tell me about the impending Radetzky March recessional; and when I missed my other other bestie because she couldn't make it from Nebraska. On a day when I couldn't have imagined all that would happen in the next twenty seven years. 

In the past twenty seven years we've celebrated the births of our five living children and the loss of four babies. We've journeyed through hospital, birth center, and homebirths; breastfeeding; cloth diapering; babywearing; elimination communication; gentle parenting; cosleeping; homeschooling; unschooling; and twenty seven or so forms of "coming out" from various family members. We've journeyed through good times and bad, sickness and health ... and luckily haven't gotten to the death part, even though we were close a couple times there. 

Year twenty-seven was a challenging one. Every single aspect of our life was challenged in some form. It is my hope that year twenty-eight is one of healing and hope; of getting everyone the help and care they need; of once again finding community; and of discovering a new normal that works for us all.