Visit the Atangan website for updates on Leya’s mom, Nadira Atangan. And thank you for your continued prayers for her recovery.
“Love is not consolation, it is light.” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche
I’d watch her restocking books at the students’ arrival, then checking new ones out as they left. Her joyful demeanor was the first thing I noticed. She had an infectious cheer and a beautiful smile. I could hear her laugh from the other side of the library. To hear that laugh still makes me smile. She was boisterous, often cheesy and, once you spent some time with her, thoughtful and introspective.
We met in the computer lab of the library on campus and eventually began spending time with the same group of people. As evenings out with friends drew to a close we’d find ourselves pairing off, spending a little extra time together. We became great friends.
We shared an inquisitiveness and creativity about everything: that was characteristic of all our conversations. In one moment we’d be talking about God and Kierkegaard and the merits of West Side Story or Casablanca the next. We spontaneously painted a picture together one afternoon and then played chess. I miss those times we had just to ourselves, randomly choosing to do what we’d like: going to a museum, walking next to the river in Norfolk, talking in the library parking lot until 4:00 a. m.
Having kids and jobs and all the trappings of adult life makes those times seem so foreign. But those memories get sweeter the more I grow to love her. We never knew then how precious those days were.
One late night as we were walking we crossed a bridge. We paused, as Leya was talking, to gaze out at the pond below. For emphasis, recounting some event of the day, she threw up her hand and it caught the side of her head, sending her glasses into the water.
“Ah, my glasses!”
“Oh, man,” I replied.
“Are you going to jump in and get them?”
“No!” How chivalrous.
“Oh! Oh, those were brand new!”
We both laughed.
Later that night we laid down on the bridge, side by side, gazing up at the stars, talking about who knows what. At some point our conversation paused and for a moment we just laid there silently.
“I like you,” I confessed.
“I like you too,” Leya replied with a smile.
“No, I like you.”
“Ohhh.”
And so a friendship led to dating that led to an engagement that led to marriage. And eight years later I get to celebrate the vows I made to my best friend; the person who gives more to me than I could ever give back; who’s loved me through my best and worst.
She is my bride and the person I hold dearest to my heart.
—
Happy anniversary, Leya. I love you.
Today I met up with the girls at Sweet Tomatoes for lunch. About half way through the little people began moving around like they were going to jump out of their skin.
ADAM: They need naps when you get home.
LEYA: Mmm hmm.
GIGI: I’m not tired, Lana needs a nap. But I’m not tired.
LANA: I need a nap.
ADAM: (At Gigi) You are tired. I can see it in your eyes.
GIGI: (Looking at me with eyes widening) I’m not tired. Look, I don’t have tired eyes. I have hungry eyes.
Leya found a great deal on a set of twin beds on Craigslist. So, yesterday afternoon, we loaded everyone up and headed to Winter Garden to get the goods. After loading all the parts in our precious mini-van, I traveled back whilst the girls headed to Target to get some new covers.
Once home, I disassembled Lana’s old crib with the “princess tent” and Gigi’s toddler bed; cleaned up the room and assembled the new beds. They look great and fit perfectly.
The girls were overjoyed to finally have big girl beds. After getting everything set in the room we let them see “the surprise.” They both jumped up and down with excitement. After much celebration, we read a book and they both, finally, went to sleep.