We’ve had a lot of years together, but nowhere near enough.
Yesterday, was my tenth wedding anniversary. Ten years ago, my husband and I exchanged vows in a semi-dilapidated former tobacco warehouse that, at the time, had been converted into a small art gallery with adjoining art studios.
From the outside, that building brought my mother to tears, and I really cannot blame her. It looked rough, to say the least, but inside there was just something magical about it to us. The gallery space was small, and to me, the hanging art meant it was already decorated. The floor was marked by where an old assembly line once stood for moving the tobacco, and that served as our aisle.
We turned that space into the picture perfect setting for our wedding. We made a long piece of draped fabric to flow overhead down the make-shift aisle. We rented large potted trees and strung lights over them which set the mood. We had one solo guitarist play a Beatles tune as the matron of honor and best man walked down to the front. Then, my dad and I walked together, arm in arm, down the aisle.
Later, we ate, toasted and danced. Then, after our guests said their good nights and congrats, we were left with just a handful of close friends — as well as left over food. We stole bits of cake and grilled veggies left by the caterer, and looked around quite proudly at that warehouse space we had decorated and made our own.
I think that day really set the tone for what our married life would be like. We’ve made our way through the last 10 years doing things just the way we want to do them.
Husband, there’s a lot to take in: Ten years; two kids; three houses; a teeny-tiny apartment; a smattering of jobs; a stick shift; a few spirited disagreements (not necessarily with each other); some pinball machines (when did that happen?); the stomach flu; a walk-in closet; a handmade garage; near and dear family whom have passed; sink repairs; beans and noodles; free throw champions; lots of laundry; pets lost and gained — including too many fish to count; hurricanes and power outages (who ever thought they would matter?); soft tickles; fake snakes; West Virginia climbing trips; practical jokes; good meals; traditions, old and new; fresh, clean sheets; many, many laughs and a few tears; more cranberries than I ever thought possible; breakfast with real bacon; poopy diapers; little girls with little curls; catching a thousand tiny fish; road trips; Hollywood rummy (how much do I owe you?); patience; understanding; compassion; sympathy; mutual respect; a whole lotta love; bad singing; good dancing; and that one phase where you made too much bread pudding.
It’s been a great ride and I cannot wait to see where we go next.