A  D  A   ( M A S H A I D A )

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Mashaida and I share a rather interesting set of stories. Stories that include notes under desks, kissing in the rain and ankle-breaking instances of joy.

Our first kiss was on a Wednesday evening. Mashaida will agree with me that Wednesday is the best day of the week. She notices that true miracles happen on days like these. Even on days where there is pain. Like the night we were strolling in Paris our senior year of high school. We walked hand in hand and I leaped quickly out of joy and accidentally rolled her ankle. We stumbled down the road; I, apologizing of course, and her strained smile with every other step we took.

Mashaida is a true romantic.

She has read Pride and Prejudice three times; in a row, I’m sure! She gets lost in romantic tales like Poldark and searches for even more stories whilst antiquing. Her heart is forever in Frazee, MN., and she has NEVER missed the Fourth of July at her grandparents home. It’s been agreed that WE will never miss it either.

Mashaida is horribly allergic to cats. And she is also very stubborn. But through that stubbornness with the help of a Costco-sized box of tissues she absolutely adores our rescue cat Shaughnessy. And Shaughnessy adores her as well; following her around all day every day and stretching out on the floor for belly-rubs.

Mashaida is a truly remarkable woman. Strong and kind. Strong enough to handle me at my worst and kind enough to empathize and lift me out of the dark. She is the reason I continue to compete for the better photograph. She inspires and cultivates such a keen vision towards every endeavor it becomes hard to compete because I know I don’t have the drive she has. But in knowing that, she is the reason I put everything I have into everything I do.

 

 

A  N  D  R  E  W

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I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him, so I ran up to my bedroom window to watch him drive away. To my surprise he stopped. Pressed the brake lights once. Then four times. Then three.

I.. L-O-V-E..Y-O-U.

I’ve always loved his sense of adventure. When I tell him I want to move to France, he tells me let’s go tomorrow! And I know without a doubt- he truly would.

He genuinely loves to make people happy and he is the worst at giving gifts because he gets so excited he can never keep it a surprise. He loves to hunt, camp, and has a soft spot for cats, especially our rescue cat Shaughnessy. Andrew knows how to tie a bow tie, fold a pocket square, and even though he would virtually eat anything you put in from of him, Indian Food is probably one of his favorites.

Andrew is the one who keeps me grounded. The one who makes us watch movies when I feel like I should be working and reminds me daily that loving others, and loving them well, deserves my time over anything else. I had always hoped for my “Mr. Darcy” to find me. And I thank God every day that he did.


 

O  u  r     S  t  o  r  y

 


 

Y  o  u  r     S  t  o  r  y

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