This always sneaks up on me, but today is the six-year anniversary of my blog. (What?!) But I can hardly fault myself for nearly forgetting — it falls on the day after we celebrated our 10-year anniversary on the date we got married last year. Um. Yes. It’s complicated.
Before our little jaunt to the chapel, we were struggling with deciding between two important anniversary dates, one in March and the other in August, and finally decided to put our foot (feet?) down; let’s just combine all of the dates into the time when we finally made it to the altar, and call it a day. Literally. Better for our stress levels, better for our pocketbooks. Done. We’re pragmatic like that.
With Halloween just around the corner, there’s plenty to celebrate this week it would seem, and normally, I’d be all over it. So much to plan, so much to capture. The blog should’ve been overflowing with sweet words of remembrance and love. Except life happens, and I have a sick four-year-old in my hands.
She’s been quarantined at home with me for the past four days. With a mama this and a mama that every few minutes, I can scarcely string a cohesive sentence together before having to tend to the little one and her myriad needs while juggling freelance work on top of that. More water. I’m cold. I’m hot. Honey tea. Snuggle time. No, fresh water! Take my temperature. Honey tea. I have a headache. Stay close. Where are you? Honey tea. Can you play with me?
I had hoped for a quick getaway so we could indulge in something different – something as far from real life as possible - to celebrate this milestone anniversary. Reality, however, had other plans for us. Ironically, such is real life.
Nonetheless, it’s a good life. It wouldn’t be right for me to lament this one day when I have all the other days for which to be thankful, where sweet Post-It notes, middle-of-the-day dates, “thinking of you” texts, and clasping hands are often a part of them.
We did manage to sneak in a lovely dinner in the city, planned entirely by My Guy, babysitter and all. We got to dress up, where I wore the earrings and shoes that I’d worn for the wedding, and he, the jacket. There were okra, mussels, Brussels sprouts, anchovies, and ramps - all the things that I love, which he had tried and learned to enjoy over the years because of me. He had, at one point in the evening, looked across the table and thanked me for introducing him to things he otherwise wouldn’t have known. He acknowledged that he had indeed come far.
Yes, my love, but so have we.
In all our time together, there were things that happened that should’ve been the end of us. We were almost finished — twice! Yet, we found a way to stay together. We worked incredibly hard and I’m so proud of all that we did to get here — are still doing, every single day. There should have been fireworks, white sandy beaches, and a couples’ massage (or two) to commemorate this milestone. Instead, there were just us, and I’m just as grateful.
Because we can’t be together for this long and fight so hard for what we have and not realize that this “us” is no ordinary thing. Sometimes, it’s the best part of all, and how lucky are we that we already have that?
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.
- Wendell Berry