An organization, a ranch, and finding family

Immediately after our marriage and completely unplanned, Cory was invited to a Dark Horse Elite (https://www.darkhorseelite.org) retreat at the Dilday Ranch (https://www.dildayranch.com), and Cory asked if I wanted to join him. My reply, true to form, was: “Let me see if I can get a four-day.” (Army life, right?)

Cory and I knew from the get-go that we wouldn’t be shacking up right away—this was supposed to be a short visit, not a life event. Our jobs had us stationed on opposite sides of the country, so we were working with, at best, a week together before he flew back to Washington. But we squeezed in every moment we could—and honestly, we’re glad we did. A little chaos, a lot of love, and one very unexpected honeymoon.

We figured—why not make the most of it? What started as a quick trip turned into an impromptu honeymoon in Wynnewood, Oklahoma (romantic, right?), complete with meeting the fam. Apparently, "unplanned" is just our style. A library wedding and a honeymoon weren’t exactly on our bingo card, but hey, here we are.

Before heading to the ranch, we spent a little time with Cory’s family—his mom, grandmother, and sister.

Meeting the in-laws in your 40s is an entirely different experience from when you’re younger. By this point in life, you already know who you are, what you believe, and how you live. It adds a different layer to the introductions—especially when you come from different faiths and traditions. Cory is Christian, and I am Muslim. Neither of us is looking to convert the other; instead, we’re both deeply at peace in our own ways. His family is closely tied to their church community, while my family’s faith tends to be more private.

What I found in meeting Cory’s family was genuine kindness. His grandmother, Nana, welcomed me with open arms. She has a warmth that fills a room, and I felt immediately cared for and accepted.

Cory’s mom devotes herself to caring for her adopted granddaughters and is active in her church. There is something admirable about how she pours her energy into both family and church community.

His sister is equally inspiring—raising two adopted daughters while also fostering children. Her strength and generosity are evident in everything she does.

Over the next couple of days, we shared stories, swapped a little about our families and children, and spent time together. It wasn’t rushed—it was just enough to get a glimpse of who they are and to let them see a little of me.

Looking back, I realize how unique it is to navigate marriage later in life. Most people talk about blending children or households, but we don’t often talk about blending with extended families. That can carry just as many emotions, especially when relationships haven’t always been close.

In Cory’s case, because his family ties have had distance, this part of our journey feels less about blending and more about building—slowly, with patience, respect, and care. It’s not something I take for granted.

Meeting his family was a reminder that even in our 40s, new chapters are still unfolding, and family connections can still be written in fresh ink.

So, Cory and I looked through our phones and realized we only have two photos from that time—this one, and another that I’ll be sharing in my next post. Looking back, I’m actually grateful we were present and engaged in the moment that our phones weren’t part of the mix.