Skip to main content

Five Plus Thirty Four

Almost 12 years ago I married this guy. We didn't know each other very well. Oh, we knew all the 'facts' about each other but we hadn't spent much of our day to day life together. That is one of the hazards of meeting your future spouse online.


I strung him along for six months before finally, officially accepting his proposal. I freaked my parents out by visiting Detroit alone then announcing that I was going to get married and move there. They met Eric, they liked Eric but to say they had doubts would be like saying the Empire State Building is tall. It's very, very tall and they had big, big doubts. In fact, on my wedding day my dad told me it was still okay to change my mind. (For the record, his parents told him the same thing.)


When we got married, I seriously questioned my judgement and God. This was not the life I expected, the man I expected, the experiences I expected. Sure, I had prayed and received a very sure answer that I should marry Eric. But I was expecting roses, romantic dinners, a little newlywed love nest.


What I got was frequent fighting, living in his parent's house with all my stuff in storage, and no one anywhere close to run to. I was stuck with him, and he with me. (After all, I know I was no picnic.)


Eventually we started to figure each other out. We fell into a rhythm, we had kids, we put Eric through school, we made many mistakes both small and large, we started to understand each other and what love really is.

Love is choosing every day to ignore the bad stuff and embrace the good stuff.

So today, on his birthday, I want to say thanks. Thanks for knowing from the start that you wanted to marry me. Thanks for waiting for me to get my head together. Thanks for listening to me cry. Thanks for giving me two amazing children. Thanks for letting me stay home and be a Mom. Thanks for taking me out to dinner even when we really shouldn't be spending the money. Thanks for letting me shop whenever I want. Thanks for taking me to the Temple so we can be a family even when this life is over. Thanks for giving me a wonderful life. Thanks for sacrificing your family, your home, your money so that I can move back home. Thanks for putting up with my insecurity and shyness.

I'm not always good at saying it or showing it, but I'm grateful I married this guy.


Happy birthday!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Carly,

I assume that one day you will come to me wanting to know who you are, where you came from, where your other family is and why they gave you to us.  I offer you little bits of information already, but certainly not crumbs enough to satisfy the appetite.  Perhaps it won't matter to you.  I am assuming a lot, already, about how adoption will impact your life.

People often wonder why adoptive parents are hurt when their children seek out biological roots.  I have the answer, and it's very simple.  Adoption - at its core - makes us question the legality, authority, voracity, and validity of parenthood.  For most adoptive parents, first you must come to terms with an issue that strikes at the foundations of mortality: fertility.  From birth, most of us are driven to form families.  First we are nestlings, nurtured and weened and eventually taught to fly.  Then we are nest-builders, filling our lives with the stuff necessary to drive life forward.  Knowledge, safety, money, a sturdy …

On being away from home and turning sixteen: a letter to my son

Dear Josh,

I missed your sixteenth birthday.  I'm sure you recall - or maybe it wasn't so bad because you spent the whole day with your friend watching movies.  Godzilla and Guardians of the Galaxy, you've said.  It's no surprise to me that Godzilla was your favorite of the two.  That atomic green monster holds a special place in your heart.

It was very difficult for me to be away from you when you crossed this threshold in your life.  I remember turning sixteen, being sixteen, and wondering when I would feel like I was actually sixteen.  When I was sixteen, I went and found my first job, I started driving myself around, and I pretty much felt like I was in the wrong skin.  I'm only now, at 37, beginning to feel in the right skin.  Or at least comfortable with the skin I'm in.  But you - well, you don't seem to have a problem being you.  I can't explain how very happy that makes me feel, how very reassured.  Because it can be really hard not to like you…

Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

You know when you see someone again and it's been, like, forever, and you're not really even sure that you're getting their name right and you wonder WHAT on EARTH they've done to their hair/face/body/children and you can't quite find the right words to fill the gap between time and space?
My second year of teaching is just beginning - and isn't that a wonder?  Last year...let's just say, we all survived.  Last year involved:
- Commuting home (2 hours, one way) almost every weekend - The kids and I here (in Espanola, where I teach) while Eric stayed in Edgewood - Putting our (still for sale) house on the market - Two semesters of Master's classes (what was I thinking??? on the up side, I only have 1 semester left and I am DONE.  D. O. N. E.) - Saturday's spent in professional development - My first ever "work trip" to San Diego 
And this year:
- Josh is a Senior (whuuuut!) - Carly started 5th grade - We all live here in Espanola (double WH…