A Journey To Finding My Soul

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The Journey Begins

My name is Ines.  Today is my 56th birthday and I decided to create this blog to give a voice to my coqui soul. 

I call it coqui soul because I am from Puerto Rico.  The coqui is a tiny frog native from Puerto Rico.  It serves as a national symbol for Puerto Rico.  As a native Puerto Rican, I strongly identify with the coqui.  Thus, I’m calling this site My Coqui Soul project, as the purpose of this journey is to discover my Puerto Rican – coqui – soul.

I was born and lived in Puerto Rico until I graduated from college.  Then I moved to Michigan in 1984 to attend graduate school.  I now live in Michigan. 

After 34 years from leaving the island, I still relate deeply to the coqui.  I’m Puerto Rican by birth and feel that I will always be Puerto Rican in my soul.  

For the last several years, I have been doing a lot of self-reflection.  I guess you can say that I have been going through mid-life crisis.  A lot of things have happened that triggered my exploration.  I have been thinking a lot about who I am.  Not superficially, but who I truly am.  I have been searching for my soul. 

This blog gives a voice to my coqui soul.  I will be sharing my thoughts, my emotions. and the many life lessons learned along the way.  I hope that you join me in this journey.  Maybe you can relate to my observations.  I hope you can also reflect as you listen and even learn something about yourself.  I hope my journey can evolve into your own journey.   

Welcome to my blog — My Coqui Soul Project 

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

 

Jumping in again…

Today I read an article about feeding your soul. Then, by chance, I got a notification that someone liked one of my posts. Serendipity? You bet!

In July 2020, I wrote a post about ‘jumping back’ to writing. I just read that post. I was so excited about getting back. I was full of ideas and excitement. But then…nothing happened. I just quit posting. I found out that I have written a ‘private’ post about ‘legacy’ and thoughts about what I wished to accomplish during my last two years of my career. I was hoping to write along my journey, but that didn’t happen.

It’s hard to recreate two years! I know I succeeded in what I had planned and wished to do. I know I worked really hard to build a legacy that I can be proud of. There is no reason to look back. I decided to move forward and continue my ‘soul’ journey, which is the reason I started this blog. I just want to write and get in touch with my ‘soul’ again.

I finally retired in May of 2022. That chapter of my life is done. I was given a beautiful ‘send away’ party (virtual due to Covid still lingering in the background). After that wonderful experience, I thought I might get back to writing, as I was getting what I wished for the most – endless time.

But life didn’t evolve the way I thought. I found myself ‘free’ with an endless amount of time. After 30 long years of an intense career where I devoted all my energy and passion, I needed to just rest and recover.

My loving husband also retired. Instead of writing, I devoted my time to travel planning. We love to travel and we have acquired a new hobby – camping – so we took on the road and have had a lot of wonderful camping trips since our retirement.

Now that I think about it, I realize that one of the reasons why I stopped writing is because we got into camping due to the pandemic of 2020. We had so many trips planned before the pandemic…but life with COVID had other plans. We ended up cancelling all our planned trips and decided to get into camping – like many other people out there. Camping seemed safe.

Our camping experience began with renting an RV in September 2020. It only took a couple of trips – with rental units – to convince us to buy a camper. But of course, we couldn’t just get any camper. We ended up buying a restoration project in October 2020. And that’s what happened after my last post. We found out a new hobby that took us into a new life journey. Her name is ‘Willow’ and I’m sure I will write more about her later.

For now, I’m just happy to be back here writing! A new chapter has been started in retirement and I’m sure there will be a lot of opportunities to explore and feed my soul.

Everything I learned in Fifth Grade

A couple of recent events made me think about the human need for validation. Why do we sometimes worry or care about what others might think of us. Why do we feel that we need validation from others? As part of my soul-searching journey, I realize that I have experienced the need for validation throughout my life.

I also have been thinking about my reactions when I observe what I consider an unfair act. I get very upset when I detect signs of unfairness. This happens not only when I perceive unfair actions toward me, but to anyone around me.

I sensed that these thoughts were somewhat connected. I decided to dig deeper into them. I wondered what mysteries could be hidden in my psyche that prompted the need for validation and my fiery reaction against injustice. I wanted to confront my thoughts head on, with honesty. I wanted to expose the good and the ugly. Honesty will lead the way to learning about who I am.

“Not everything that surfaces as part of our soul-searching is pleasant or graceful, but it will have value if it is honest.”

As is always the case, we usually react to what happens around us based on our experiences. Our experiences through life shape our values, our personalities, and our soul. We are not always proud of our actions, but we can always learn from them.

“Unmasking the past is sometimes necessary to be able to move forward, and hopefully, to a better self.”

After much reflection, I realized that I needed to go back to my fifth grade. I knew all along that an important event occurred during my fifth grade. This is not the first time that I think about that day. But giving it some additional deliberation during this journey of self-reflection revealed a lot more that I have ever discovered previously. I saw an inevitable connection between my fifth grade experience and how I have acted every single day after that. Suddenly I found answers to my questions of validation and fairness.

I did very well in school. I was an ‘A’ student from kindergarten to my senior year, where I was the valedictorian of my class. The graduating class was small – 25 students – and most of us have been together since kindergarten. I went to a private school – an all girls school. My parents did not have a lot of money, but they used everything they had to support our education. They worked very hard all their life to give my sister and I everything we needed – their most important gift was the gift of education. My mom was a nurse and my dad was an accountant.

My fifth grade teacher was a big and tall woman with a permanent frown on her face. She used to wear a two-piece grey uniform, consisting of a vest and skirt. The only color in her outfit was the daily changing blouse under the gray vest. But there were no flowers or prints, just solid, muted colors barely noticed against all the gray. For a 10-year old, she was like an ogre in a fairy tale. Everyone was frightened when entering the classroom, quietly sitting in the desks and avoiding any conversation unless asked to speak. No one wanted to get into trouble.

One day, the teacher announced a prize for the best student in class. What happened after the announcement changed me forever. She did not call my name. I knew my grades. I knew that I was the top student in the class, but she called someone else’s name. I was 10 years old. I did not know what to think or what to do. My mind was somewhere between confusion and disbelief. All I remember is that I was hurt. I could not wait to leave school that day. When I arrived home I told my mom. The other student that received the prize was the daughter of one of the school’s board of trustees.

That single experience and my mom’s reaction defined who I am today. My mom was furious. She could not believe that the top student prize was given to someone else. She also knew very well my grades. My mom was not going to stand silent against the injustice and the next day she roared to the school to talk with the principal and the teacher. Until that day, I would have considered my mom a very quiet and calm person. But that day she became a lioness. She was defending her cub and she was fierce. I have not seen my mom behave that way before. But I knew my sister and I were the world for my parents. Everything they did, they did for us. If we were ever in danger they will come to our rescue without question.

I do not remember much about what happened after my mom’s historical visit to the school. I do not know if I also got a prize. I assumed they gave me something else, instead of taking the prize from the other student. I really did not care much about the actual prize because the experience around it was already hurtful. I learned many lessons that eventually morphed into my personality.

“Our experiences define our past but our choices define our future.”

I believe that I have felt the need for validation throughout my life because of my fifth grade experience. Maybe I could have learned a different lesson, or my mom could have explained the situation different. I will always carry this experience within me. But now I understand the roots of where my feelings come from. Shedding light into the past provided an opportunity to understand that the reaction could have been different. As a child, I did not have much of a choice, as the characteristics of my personality were developing through my parent’s eyes. But now I have my own eyes. I can choose how I behave. I can understand that the need for validation might be a human characteristic, but not necessarily needed at all times. I know better. I now have a choice on how I want my experiences to impact my future.

I also learned that day about my mom’s strength and spirit. My absolute refusal to stand silent against injustice derives from observing my mom’s irrefutable devotion to defend her loved one against injustice. I adopted these characteristics from my mom and I am proud of them. Like my mom, I become a lioness when a loved one is in danger. I also feel compelled to stand for fairness in everything that happens around me. It is many times frustrating – life is not always fair – but I never want to quit to stand for what I believe in and to defend others that might need my help. For this passion, I thank my mom.

Crossing the Threshold

“This poem is about the anxieties experienced as an immigrant and person of color. I”m sure others have also had similar experiences. As I reflected on the events triggered by racism in this country and the impacts of those events on me, as a minority, many of my own experiences came to the surface, including the ones reflected here.”

Traveling is a freedom, a privilege.

Adventures and new discoveries usually await.

Excitement and happiness lead the way.

But then I have to cross the threshold of belonging.

And that shakes me and brings doubts to my disdain.

Stay close to my husband.

Our eyes connect.

Keep your distance.

Within grasp, just in case.

A feeling of uneasiness grows stronger.

There is fear.

Anxiety.

As my heart races faster my pulse keeping pace.

Wondering if everything will be okay.

Do I belong in their side? Will they welcome me back?

Do they look at me different?

Do they want to know more?

Don’t make eye contact.

Stay quiet.

It’s better that way.

As I cross the threshold,

I look back at my soulmate.

Please keep me safe.

Don’t lose sight of me.

I might need your help,

I might need you to come by.

I might need you to speak for me.

I might need you to tell them that I belong in your arms.

Maybe one day I’ll get used to it?

I have your back, my sweetheart

Just calm down.

I would never let anything happen to you.

I see your eyes on me. I’m here.

I see you.

I would never let anything happen to you.

I’ll protect you and everything will be okay, my love.

Maybe one day I will feel that I belong…

I wonder…

While walking…

Feelings of anxiety, fear, uneasiness, discomfort.

Based on what’s happening to others that look like me around the country.

I wonder if those feelings of hatred are also around me?

As I walk around my town…

Hatred has been encouraged.

Division is rampant in our country.

I wonder…

Who’s on my side?

What others in the other side think when they see me?

Is my life in danger?

Will I ever know that my life is in danger?

Will I only know that my life was in danger after something happens?

After I don’t have any recourse or anyway of protecting myself?

I wonder…

I don’t want to feel this way.

It’s exhausting to feel this way.

We all have challenges in our lives.

I don’t want this extra burden.

I don’t want to be fearful, anxious, uncomfortable, uneasy.

I don’t want to wonder.

I don’t want to wonder but I don’t think I have been given a choice.

Based on who I am,

I’ve been forced to wonder.

I’ve been forced to deal with a reality that I don’t like, but it exists around me.

I wish I could be different.

I wish I could be in a more peaceful place.

I wish I wouldn’t have these thoughts today.

The wondering thoughts drain my energy.

The wondering thoughts drain my soul.

A heavy burden.

Sometimes I wish I had a lighter load.

My mind wanders to places that are painful.

The suffering of others causes pain.

The unfairness in the world causes pain.

There’s heaviness in my heart.

In my mind.

In my soul.

As I wonder, as my mind wanders.

I’m blessed with love, others are not in this world.

Maybe that’s what I should tell myself, to lessen the pain…

When my mind wonders.

How blessed I am having love in my life, unconditional, pure love!

But my mind wanders.

Hurting

The country is in despair. We are in the midst of not only a pandemic but in the midst of awful events that have happened recently where racial minorities have been killed – murdered. Racism is on the spotlight as the country struggles to acknowledge the social and economic disparities affecting racial minorities in the United States.

As a Hispanic in this country, watching and listening to the news and seeing graphic videos of violence against African-Americans and Hispanics have been overwhelming. I share the fear, anxiety, and pain of those who have been insulted, disrespected, abused, oppressed, and discriminated against. I hurt as many others do and the pain is real.

As I embark on many walks trying to clear my head, I can’t seem to be able to push away the ugly reality that surrounds me. In a way, I feel compelled to think and reflect and to not forget the pain that others have experienced, especially those who lost their life without reason – their execution driven by irreverence and violence toward persons of color. As I observe these atrocities committed toward others that look like me, I wonder if something similar could ever happen to me.

Just jump in!

It’s funny to think about how many times I have told myself that I should go back to my writing. So many times…it has been months. Eight months! Amazing how time passes by… There is no reason to ‘think’ about writing or waiting for the perfect time or moment. I just need to jump back in…so here I am again!

I’m in my beloved sunroom. The place I remodeled last year where I spent most of my time when I’m not working. It is my relaxation space, my tv-watching space, my napping place, my ‘catching up’ with reading and email space, my talking on the phone place. It was also supposed to be my writing place, but that took a backseat to everything else.

Even though I have not been writing here, my head has been full of ideas. I have been ‘writing’ in my mind. I wish my mind would have recorded all the internal conversations and reflections that I have done for the last eight months. Every single time I would think about a subject that I wanted to share, I told myself that I needed to go back to writing…but it didn’t happen. Life took over my writing. My daily life suddenly began to fill with other things – nothing special, just daily things that I somehow allowed to take over.

And suddenly today I wake up and find myself writing again. It is such a relief and such a joy to be back. No reason to explain the hows and whys of my writing absence. Unfortunately, my many thoughtful reflections of life during the last eight months were never recorded and will not be remembered today. But there is no time for regrets. I’m just going to jump in and do it again!

Eventually, your life purpose returns. It might have been dormant, but not forgotten. I’m back!

My Nesting Period

The last time I wrote it was February – six months ago!  February was a big milestone month for my husband and I.  In addition to celebrating our anniversary – the date we met – we also reached a big milestone with our home – our house became ours!  Our mortgage was paid off!

What a relief.  It felt amazing to know that we reached this huge milestone together.  We did several refinancing moves, leading to the shortening of the mortgage period.  This was one of the best decisions we made.  I had to thank my sister and brother-in-law for the discussion we had many years ago when they shared with us that they had refinanced to shorten the period of their mortgage.  Because of that discussion, my husband and I decided to do the same when we had the chance.

So what all this has to do with my hiatus from writing?  A lot!  After paying our mortgage, we decided that it was time to pay attention to our home.  Although we were not envisioning a major remodeling, we wanted to ‘refresh’ our home.  So that’s what’s being happening during the last six months.

It’s funny how one idea leads to another and soon you find yourself with multiple projects.  You start working in one area of the house and then the adjacent area calls for attention.  And so it happens that we ended up doing a lot more than what we originally anticipated.

Little by little, my whole attention went to the house and the millions of ideas of things I wanted to do.  I became drawn to everything ‘home’ and spent every minute exploring ideas and creating new ones.  It was a challenge to keep everything within a reasonable budget, so I also spent a lot of time doing research.

I call my experience going through a ‘nesting’ period.  I love our house and it felt so good to pay attention to it again.  It felt so good to think about our home and how to improve it for our future.  We enjoyed every minute we spent making our house better, prettier, and more comfortable for us – cementing our future into a place that will sustain us for many years to come.

I felt like I was building our future nest.  Dealing with all the home improvement challenges gave me an immense amount of comfort and peace.

One of my favorite projects was to update our sunroom.  We put new floors, bought some new furniture pieces, re-purposed old pieces, and added a few new accents.  The sunroom is now my oasis.  The sunroom makes me smile every time I sit in my favorite chair.  My soul is embraced with warmth, joy, and love.  I look forward to spending many hours in my favorite room in our  home – my nesting place.

I miss you!

A letter to myself…

It’s hard to believe that I have been away for so long.  Although I have not written for a while, my thoughts and feelings never stopped.  My fingers were taking a break from writing, but my mind has been collecting a lot of ideas that I want/need to share.

The hiatus was in itself an interesting experience.  Slowly I started retreating into my home.  A period that I call ‘nesting.’  The many distractions kept me away from here, but I was always planning my return.  Maybe it took a bit longer than expected, but I want to be back.  I want to share about where I was during my hiatus and where I am today.

The return makes me happy and I can’t wait to put my fingers to work again.  My mind is spinning with ideas…

Let’s go at it again!  Let’s go back to my destiny.  Let’s return to my life’s purpose.  Let’s continue my dream.

I’m writing again!

My thoughts in 1984 – A time capsule found

Last week, as I was digging into a drawer, I found a time capsule from 1984.  My discovery, as I opened the pink binder adorned with flowers, was exhilarating.  Inside the binder were traces of my life from 35 years ago.  More astounding were the memories that took life again as I opened the treasure.

The year 1984 marked important events in my life.  I graduated from college in Puerto Rico that year.  I also transitioned into my new life in Michigan, as I departed Puerto Rico to attend graduate school.  These two very important events were forever linked into the binder, reflecting a turn in my life that will forever change me.  Or maybe not?

What was perplexing is that while going through the pieces of paper that I carefully folded and kept for years to come, I discovered that my soul has not changed.  Despite the many life turns and experiences during 35 years, I could easily relate to my feelings in 1984, as if time has not passed.

I felt overwhelming joy and melancholy at the same time.  I was happy to re-discover friendships impressed in greeting cards from my college days in Puerto Rico and from those who I met in graduate school.  I recognized all the names, but some are not part of my life today, bringing sadness and longing.

I read a poem from a friend, releasing emotions not forgotten.  I also read a letter meant for my college friends as I said goodbye – the paper and ink intact.  The letter touched on the many feelings of friendship that I so much wanted to leave for posterity in a piece of paper locked away in the binder.  I could not remember if I ever sent the letter to my friends.  The letter was full of emotion.  Did I had the courage to share it with my friends?  My memory failed to recall what I did, so I decided to send them the letter last week, as a reminder of my lasting love and friendship.

The binder also unveiled small cutouts with thoughts written by others.  As I read the words of wisdom, a puzzle started to come together.  The cutouts were from newsletters from my dorm during my first semester at the University of Michigan.  Since I was a teenager, I have always liked to collect quotes.  I found comfort in reading quotes that connected with my own thoughts.  It was as if strangers could read my mind – knowing who I was or wanted to be.  I ended up with a notebook full of reflections from poets and writers.  The notebook was left behind in my bedroom in Puerto Rico.   However, the urge to preserve words of wisdom, which aligned with my own beliefs, never left me.  Thus, it was not a surprise that I have continued to collect written quotes that appeared in a hidden corner of the dorm newsletter – the section entitled ‘fuzzy words.’

As I relived the memories, a realization came to mind.  The letters and cutouts from 1984 revealed a love for writing that has always being part of my soul.  The letter to my friends showed me that I always yearned to put my thoughts on paper, wanting to capture and preserve the fragile and elusive feelings of my soul.  The cutouts from the dorm newsletters illustrated my fascination for the written word.

I have always found magic in writing.  In a mystical turn of the universe, I find myself today where I was in 1984 – listening to my soul and writing my thoughts and feelings in this blog.

Because you – the reader – are also part of my journey, I wanted to share some of the quotes that I discovered in the binder.  They opened a window to where I was in 1984.  But they also connect with who I am today.  The quotes have a way to awaken the character and desires of my soul.

I hope you enjoy the quotes below, as much as I did reading them again.  I also hope that you can find inspiration for your own journey.  Enjoy!

“We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it — and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove lid.  She will never sit on a hot stove lid again, and that is well; but she will never sit on a cold one anymore.” — Mark Twain

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a little bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden path, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.  This is to have succeeded.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Why didn’t you walk around the hole,” asked the Tin Woodsman. “I don’t know enough,” replied the Scarecrow cheerfully, “my head is stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask him for some brains.”  “Oh, I see.  But, after all, brains are not the best things in the world,” said the Tin Woodsman. “Have you have any?” inquired the Scarecrow.  “No, my head is quite empty,” answered the Woodsman, “but once I had brains, and a heart also; so having tried both, I should rather have a heart.” — The Wizard of Oz

“You may not see it now,” said the Princess of Pure Reason, looking knowingly at Milo’s puzzled face, “but whatever we learn has a purpose and whatever we do affects everything and everyone else, if even in the tiniest way….”And it’s much the same with knowledge, for whenever you learn something new, the whole world becomes that much richer.” — Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth 

“And remember, also,” added the Princess of Sweet Rhyme, “that many places you would like to see are just off the map and many things you want to know are just out of sight or a little beyond your reach.  But someday you’ll reach them all, for what you learn today, for no reason at all, will help you discover all the wonderful secrets of tomorrow.” — Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth 

 

 

Our Anniversary – Serendipity

My husband and I celebrated our anniversary yesterday, as we do every year.  This is not the usual wedding anniversary, but a celebration of the day we met – February 12, 1993.

It has been 26 years since we met at a St. Valentine’s party at the clubhouse of the apartment complex where we both lived.  It was a wintry night.  I remembered vividly what I was wearing.  I loved my creamy white sweater that my sister gave me for my birthday a couple of months before – perfect for the cold February night.  I also wore a long golden chain necklace with an iridescent white oval pendant – also a gift from my sister to accompany my birthday sweater.

Saturday night arrived and I did not have anything else to do, so I went to the party.  I do not remember how much debate went on my mind before I decided to attend.  I would not consider myself the ‘social’ type, so I do not remember me going to many gatherings at the clubhouse.  Maybe this was the only one?  But it did not matter what happened before that night or how much thought went into my decision.  The truth is that destiny was taking hold of my life and serendipity was my guide.

There were a few dozen people at the party.  Some came and went quickly after going through the food line.  Others lingered.  I do not remember the crowd, but I will never forget the moment when my life changed forever.  I met my soul mate.

I remember sitting in the living room area of the clubhouse, with maybe three or four people around me.  We were introducing ourselves and suddenly I heard four words that raised my level of attention.

“I am from Idaho,” my (now) husband said.

And that was the start of our soul relationship.  Not many people know about Idaho, but I did.  I lived in Idaho a couple of years after graduating from graduate school.  I have just recently returned back to Michigan when we met.  In fact, I lived in the same town where my husband was from.  And it got even more astonishing as we continued to talk through the night.  Everyone else around us began to disappear as my senses focused on only one person in the room.

It was serendipity.  We do not have any doubts about that.  We were meant to meet at that particular time and place.  We learned that we worked at the same company and office building in Idaho for several months during the summer of 1992, when my husband was doing a summer internship.  He worked for a different department, but our sections were not that far apart in the building.  In fact, when he described one of the summer projects, I remembered seeing a display about it.  But we never met there.  It was not the right time.  Then we started exchanging names of friends and acquaintances from Idaho.  Later on I learned that my previous boss in Idaho knew my father-in-law relatively well.  One more thing.  I found out that my father-in-law also worked for the same company.

After the wondrous evening, we began to realize that we have shared personal connections that were hard to believe or understand, if not for their magical meaning.  We never met in Idaho because it would not have worked then.  Many of my friends and family questioned why I took the job in Idaho.  Now I know, and they know, why.  I needed to be in Idaho so I can experience my husband’s hometown in preparation for our fateful meeting on February 12, 1993.  I liked my job in Idaho very much.  I learned a lot and I was able to use my expertise in a meaningful way.  But after a couple of years, I felt that I needed to come back to Michigan.  Something was pulling me back.  Destiny was waiting for the right moment to spell its magic.  And it happened on that evening where two soul mates met.

Beyond the circumstances surrounding the Idaho connection, we also realized that there was a very small window of opportunity for our souls to bond.  My husband closed on the house that we live in a week after we met.  He had already decided to move on from the apartment and had put an offer on a house.  I did not exist in his life when he bought the house.  He was prepared to take the big step of home ownership as a single man.  If it was not for the stars aligning on February 12, we probably would not have met.  It was meant to be on that day.  I popped up in my husband’s life just in time, and the rest is history.

We started dating immediately.  He asked me to a hockey game – my first hockey game ever!  He brought me a hockey sweatshirt for me to wear to the game.  I still have the sweatshirt!  We went to movies, dinners, antique shows, car shows, jazz concerts, and many other events.  He got me involved in car racing, although I already had a soft spot for cars because of my dad.  The love of cars was yet one other thing we had in common.  We became, and still are, inseparable.  We enjoyed each other’s company during our dating years – and still do today.  There are many things that I would like to write about our love relationship.  I will get into more details later.  For now, I wanted to focus on how we met.

I have always believed in magic.  I believe that the unbelievable is possible.  I believe in the impossible.  I believe that there is a force in the universe that sometimes gives a nudge to make things happen just right.  We were blessed by that magic.

My husband and I are soul mates.  We were meant to be together.  We believe that our love is special and forever.  After 26 years together, we still hold hands, we kiss in public, we embrace each other, we hug, and we express our love in as many ways as we can.  Our eyes are always gazing at each other as they did the first time when we met.  “I love you” are the most frequently words that we tell each other every day, always with a kiss, at the beginning and end of each day.  With those words, we pay tribute and gratitude to the single point in time where our souls met and our lives became one.

And that is why we celebrate the day we met.  Nothing else would have been possible if not for that blissful day in our love history.

Thank you Universe!  Cheers to Serendipity!