Today is my 21st wedding anniversary. It will be a quiet celebration this year. We’ve been quite indulgent lately with short trips and elegant meals, so we’ll spare our budget any additional extravagances. In years past, though we’ve been known to show some real creativity.
Our first anniversary was hysterical. For those of you who follow traditions or allow yourself to be influenced by Hallmark’s advertising, paper is the commemorative gift your first year. I thought I was clever and insightful when I purchased Eric a beautiful black Mont Blanc pen. But he totally out maneuvered me. He gave me a beautiful wine colored Mont Blanc pen AND personalized stationery!
On our 10th anniversary, Eric and I renewed our wedding vows at the same chapel we got married in. We cried through the entire ceremony. He wore the same bow tie he wore at our wedding. I wore my wedding gown sans the shoulder padded princess sleeves. He surprised me with a mini bouquet that was reminiscent of my original bouquet 10 years earlier. I surprised him with a 40th birthday party when we got back to the house! It was one of the best days of my life.
My mother and Tony got married on the 15th, so many anniversaries we’ve spent together celebrating over dinner at Josef’s Country Inn, one of our favorite restaurants. We’ve also spent many years down Ocean City or at the Hyatt in Cambridge basking in the beautiful October weather and seeing the sites.
A couple of weekends ago we spent the night at the Vandiver Inn in Havre de Grace. We had a wonderful time and started talking about what we might do for our 25th anniversary. If everything falls into place, we may just celebrate it in grand style at the Vandiver on their beautiful grounds.
I’ve always felt that anniversaries should be celebrated with more than the perfunctory card and cheek peck. Getting married is quite easy, but staying married is hard work. Probably the hardest thing you will do in your life (besides raising children). You have to work at it every single day.
Why are we still together? Because, on October 14, 1989, we made a promise to each other to work at it. And we have. Yes, Eric is my husband, but he is also my friend, my confidante, my scapegoat, my hero, my sparring partner, and my sex-kitten. He knows me better than I know myself. And, as his confident wife, I can say the same about him. Oh yeah, one more thing. I love him.
I love how his hand fits perfectly in mine. I love the soft skin on his shoulders. I love that his feet NEVER stink. I love that he smells like cologne on his cheeks and earlobes. I actually think that he’s smokin’ hot—even after all these years. But that’s not all.
I love how he laughs at Family Guy and The Simpsons. I love that he and Natasha go on “dates.” I love that he coached soccer and roller hockey. I love that he loves to wear suits, and ties, and cuff links, and suspenders. I love that he loves his home. I love that he cries at sad movie endings. And, during Extreme Makeover. And, at the dog rescue commercials. I love that when he speaks of his children, he tears up with pride and love. And, if you mention our deceased dog’s name, get out a hanky.
I love that he loves music and helped me discover many artists I had previously ignored. I love how he loves Christmas and takes care in making it just right. I love how he helped ferry my dad during his radiation treatments; installed light fixtures for my sister; played hockey with my brother-in-law; and secured a job for my sister-in-law. I love how he expects to mash the potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner, and always does the dishes for my mother.
I love that he’ll get milk whenever I ask him—no matter how late it is. I love that he’ll split dessert with me. I love that he lets me pick me the movie—every time. I love that he offers me my choice of the aisle seat or the window. I love that he holds the door for me. I love that he always walks on the curb side. I love when we travel that he’ll take care of getting us there. I love that he thinks things through. I love that scary movies scare him. I love that he likes the bed made.
And, in those rare moments in a busy life, when the worries, expectations, and next day preparations fall by the side and leave the consciousness, I can feel him. Really feel him. Deep in my heart. Nestled in my soul. Right where he belongs. I love you, Eric. Today and always.
Happy Anniversary Boobie!