Today (Sunday, the 19th) is our 23rd Anniversary. We’ve chosen to celebrate quietly at home (football games) and it’s given me some extra time for reflection.
I’m in wonder at the fact that we’ve made it this far. A first marriage for both of us, in our 40’s, many (of my family, at least) didn’t think we would make it. Used to being on our own, both of us independent, stubborn even.
We’ve been through a lot together. David has truly been a companion in this journey of life. Oh, I’ve had moments when I’ve want to escape, as I’m sure he has. We’ve both had to make plenty of compromises.
We’ve had moments of self-centeredness but marriage is a tool that is meant to hew away some of those rough edges, to help us grow in all dimensions of living. If we’d chosen to remain single, we could have had everything our own way. We could have maintained control over each detail of our lives. We could do what we want, when we want and attain the heights of self-involvement…and the depths of loneliness.
Instead, here I am–a football fan, bemoaning my team’s loss, still clothed in a team jersey discussing the nuances of play calls (and what I considered to be lousy officiating). Trust me, I didn’t know anything about football when we married. Now I enjoy it (especially when we win.)
Here I am, often waiting for him to come home from golfing or grocery-shopping–aware of that inner GPS that homes in on him, that makes little adjustments to my schedule so I can wave to him when he passes by on the 12th tee outside the kitchen window.
Here I am, grateful to have someone to pick up after on the one hand while, on the other, having someone who puts up with my neurotic tendencies and absent-mindedness and who will wage war on anyone who may take advantage of or threaten me.
True, now and again that escape fantasy returns, but whatever is behind it is settled before bedtime and most often, by morning time, I can’t remember exactly what it was all about as we settle into another day of our life together–and today, celebrating our 23rd year. Oh, and by the way, he does the cooking.