Monday, March 28, 2011

Miss McKenna writes a post

Right before a significant life change, I always feel especially motivated to get myself together, gather up loose ends, and donate half of my stuff to charity. I've been doing a lot of this lately, looking forward to the wedding and MARRIAGE and moving, and it's not so much preparatory as it is theraputic.

I boxed up half of my clothing, un-boxed half of the half and put it back on hangers... some things are just so damn hard to give away, you know? (It's also nice to have reminders that I once fit into "this" shirt and "those" pants.)

It's been a rapid ascent into adult-hood since Steven came home in September, and I haven't always done a good job of putting on my big girl pants and pushing onwardho! to the things of tomorrow. Really, I haven't even been rejoicing in the present. So that's what I'm working on now: being in the moment and that's a freaking full time job, folks. Especially with all the sweet junk going on right now.

The truth is, I've loved being a Miss. I've loved being young with a vintage soul. I love that my parents gave me more than a house as a kid and have always welcomed me home as an adult. I am so blessed, and even though I tend to mope around in a tres glamorous way, I have known all along that my life is special and awesome. And it's moving so quickly.

Seriously, I know it's nothing new to say that, but I catch myself all the time thinking that if I don't straighten up and love me some daily, average, precious moments, I'm only going to be half of a person who ran out of time to be whole.

I want to be an awesome McKenna. I want to be a crazy awesome Mrs. McKenna Wright. I want Steven to look at our wedding day and see himself in the details, even though I hoarded the planning. But more than that, I want him to look at my life and see himself in all the good things.

I'm sorry you can't all marry him. I really am, because he's amazing and kind and brave. We're going to have a full life and I thank God that with his help I can... well, suck the marrow out of it. Gross.

But thank you, God. And thank you family and friends who have given me boxes of letters I will never be able to throw away, and pictures that give my stomache the special feeling of being on a hill.

And thank you, Steven, for making me feel like the best kind of writer.