A Love Story


1990 … August 11 … There was a party in Steve and Bryn’s parents’ backyard. There were friends and food, performances, and Greek garb. The stars were out and falling in showers; we drank honey wine and ate grapes. It was a magical beginning for the most magical relationship of my life. Later, in a new town there was a dorm room with pink cabbage roses and white lace on the bedclothes.

1991 … Our long-distance love affair involved letter-writing every day and much driving between Sacramento and Santa Barbara. We shared precious walks on the beach and expensive phone bills. We enjoyed Ren Faire adventures with new friends and poor breathing. Sacramento pulled me home, but I couldn’t come back yet.

1992 … I started a new life in Berkeley. Ancient Greek and Latin studies for me, Bio and sciences for you. The distance didn’t hurt so bad and we saw each other much more often.  We designed rituals and challenged ourselves. We studied magic of many types.

1993 … We broke up, kinda. You needed to leave and see something new. We got back together after a wild run through the snow. You worked construction and sold your car, and we drove to LA together to put you on a plane to Sweden. I wrote a book for you and kissed you goodbye. Later, I left for Scotland. We met again on foreign soil and walked through a candlelit cemetery. We were handfasted one eerie night on a glowing beach by the North Sea. We had the sweetest, loneliest Christmas together in Scotland.

1994 … You surprised me on a Friday evening by winging your way across two countries via trains, planes, buses, and automobiles. We got engaged accidentally when you knocked on my door at midnight. We traveled across Europe together, sleeping in a tent, in trains, in hostels, mostly apart. We argued and figured out how to work together. We graduated college and I lived with you and your father for a while. We made Reggae on Sunday mornings. We didn’t know what we wanted in life, but we knew we wanted to be together.

1995 … We finally moved into our own apartment together!  It was perfect. P Street friends and many shared meals were fun. We were married on June 3 and it was so good. We honeymooned in Oregon. You were getting your teaching credential. I lost a job and got an internship. We had no dough for six months; we lived on kisses, I think.

1996 … I began working at Prima—a lot. You taught a grade 1-2 class full of disadvantaged kids. It hurt and you wanted to bring them all home with you because they weren’t getting enough love, or food, or dental care. I fell in love with you that much more.

1997 … We became fencers, briefly. We ran at Hiram Johnson High School track together. You attended classes at Rudolf Steiner college, thinking that teaching Waldorf kids would be better. Then you started working with technology and we got a little richer. We locked our TV in the garage and didn’t watch it for two years.

1998 … We worked hard, long hours and saved every dime we could. We lived at my grandmother’s house on 15th Avenue. We went to Hawaii with my parents and the house almost burned down. Technology was better for you in some ways and worse in others.

1999 … We hosted a wedding in grandma’s backyard. We bought our home in June! We attended Burning Man for the first time, but just for two days and it blew our minds. We started planning for more trips to the playa. We were happy and free to move and pursue our interests. I learned to weave. You studied a lot.

2000 … We froze at Burning Man and nearly lost our shelter! Prima layoffs happened and some friends were affected. We built a geodesic dome in our backyard from scratch. We talked about kids and I was scared. We went to New Mexico with your dad to visit family, and then struck out on our own to explore. We read lots and lots of books.

2001 … We went to Burning Man with many friends. Some boots talked to you. Weird times followed, including 9/11 and a pregnancy. We waded through hormones and anxiety together. Would we be decent parents together? What if our marriage changed? We left Kaiser for midwife care instead. We both dreamed we were having a girl. We madly painted fish onto bedroom walls.

2002 … Birthing classes, new friends. Oops, didn’t finish the class because on May 1st, Lucas baby arrived. Everything changed. I turned 30. This year was hard and lonely for both of us, but also exquisitely beautiful and extraordinary. We didn’t sleep. We struggled to find our places in this new three-part family. I worked from home. Your high-paying job laid you off when Lucas was 4 months old. Now what? You investigated autism.

2003 … You went to work for TAC helping disabled kids. I was so proud of you! My employer asked me to come back and I got so, so sad. We employed a nanny until we realized that I couldn’t be away from home for 55 to 60 hours per week. I left in August after 6.5 years and went freelance. Freelance? What the heck does that mean? We struggled and little Lucas toddled. We visited Hawaii again, with a baby in backpack.

2004 … We took two-year old Lucas to Burning Man and he got pneumonia! We left, feeling like the worst parents ever. He started preschool across the street. You taught little kids to talk, both at work and at home. And we felt so grateful to have this perfect child.

2005 … I started writing on LiveJournal, recording our daily victories and struggles. It helped me stay connected and made me saner. You untangled many knots at work. I began making more money freelancing and we started feeling comfy again. Lucas attended Treasure Garden preschool after some weird hiccups. He spent his days playing outdoors. He was wild.

2006 … Lucas turned 4 and we looked around and thought, “Oh, weren’t we going to have another baby?” And then suddenly there was a bun in the oven. We joined the PSA and the three of us went to Burning Man for one last fling before baby. Mommy got depressed. Lucas started kindergarten. We waited. You worked on a master’s degree.

2007 … Asher arrived in a rush. Oops! We had a baby in the shower. I got sick. Really sick. Hospital and terror. You were mommy and daddy to our kids for a short time. And then there was a slow healing, with a newborn at my side. He eventually got the OK to breastfeed and then I proceeded to fatten him up. You and I both suffered from a little PTSD, I think. Dreamy, sleepy days and nights dominated that first year.

2008 … Asher turned 1. I finished my textbook. You became an executive. Weird. Lucas turned 6 and went to first grade! I experienced my slowest year ever, which gave me lots of time with the kids, but it was also worrisome. We worked hard, ceaselessly supporting this family of four. You were unflagging and lovely and became a brand-new BCBA. I didn’t sleep enough.

2009 … Stressful work for you, easier times for me. Lucas turned 7 and we threw him the most amazing birthday party. Asher learned to talk and made us laugh every day. We lean on each other, as we always have. We love faithfully and intensely.

To Be Continued …

14 Responses to “A Love Story”

  • lunagirl35
    August 11, 2009 at 6:14 pm

    All I can say is…WOW


  • frosteee
    August 11, 2009 at 6:51 pm

    This just made me so happy to read all of this.
    You and the family you have made together is amazing and I am so honored to know you so well. I love you.


  • jaleenafied
    August 11, 2009 at 7:59 pm

    thank you for sharing this!! maybe i want to try.


  • kittiliscious
    August 11, 2009 at 8:17 pm

    I’m dying to know how you made reggae together. That is quite a mental image. 😛


  • matimus
    August 11, 2009 at 9:35 pm

    I’m so happy I’ve had the opportunity to witness some of this. Your relationship is inspiring. Love to you both.


  • mrplanet4
    August 11, 2009 at 9:43 pm

    Awww. So glad you two are you two together.


  • amaniellen
    August 11, 2009 at 10:20 pm

    YAY for love! You guys rule.


  • sarabellae
    August 11, 2009 at 11:26 pm

    Yep, exactly that.


  • nonosays
    August 11, 2009 at 11:58 pm

    I love that I can read this and see how my life has been intertwined with yours for so long. I’m happy that the two of you are the two of you and now the four of you.


  • labelleizzy
    August 12, 2009 at 2:46 am



  • sarabellae
    August 12, 2009 at 12:57 pm

    Thanks for all the love and support, everyone. The truth is, our community of friends and family has been instrumental in helping us through the difficult times in our marriage, and has been a source of constant joy and celebration during the happy times. I could have taken another 5 to 10 hours to write about all the ways that you dear people have affected our lives, and all the places where you intersect our story, but that would have been a much too long post. 😉 We weave our stories together on purpose.


  • hijarydoo
    August 12, 2009 at 3:06 pm

    When a weft comes loose and feels that she may never be part of this magical tapestry again, it is so deeply comforting to know that the kind weavers will gently pick her up and place her back into the warp of their lives.

    Blessed be!

    p.s. didn’t I kiss him first? 😉


  • heidi
    July 15, 2010 at 12:55 am

    Beautiful that you are able to write down and share this with all of us. There is a lot of recognitian here, at the other end of our world. I guess at some point we all struggle. Between the lines I can read and feel your hurt, and the lonely periods. I’m glad to read that you are still together and have your priorities up!

    Keep loving and enjoy!
    Warm hugs from one mother to an other from Europe!


  • Sara
    July 15, 2010 at 6:24 pm

    Oh yes! We are strong and solid. But it’s good to remember that we have worked hard to be so. And that WE are worth fighting for, no matter what comes along.

    Thanks for your kind words and compassion. I’m honored to be making friends and connections around the world. Blessings to you and yours!


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  • About Sara

    Thanks for visiting! I’m Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.

    Our children attend Waldorf school and we are enriching our home and family life with plenty of Waldorf-inspired festivals, crafts, and stories.

    © 2003–2018 Please do not use my photographs or text without my permission.

    “Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” —Ursula K. LeGuinn

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