13 Years: A Tapestry of Memories

"So...tomorrow is the day?" asked Steve
"Yes," I replied.

After 13 years, I realize that Steve and I have become proficient...at being married.
We use fewer words with each other -- not because we don't have anything to say, rather we already know much of each others scripts. While an outsider would have trouble keeping up with our abbreviated interactions, for us, it's normal.

"Did you call her about the thing?"
"Yes."
"Are we supposed to bring the stuff?"
"I think so."

Oftentimes, we don't even need words.  Like good card players, we know each others tells. 
A raised brow = proceed with caution, I'm tired and really don't want to mow the lawn
A well-placed sigh = please don't make me ask you to put your dishes in the dishwasher

Traditional 13th year gifts call for lace or for a modern take -- textiles and clothing.  However, I knew the way to my love's heart was through his stomach and decided to make him his favorite pie instead, coconut cream. Natalie, who is always looking for any excuse to organize a party (I have no idea where she gets this), wanted to know all about our wedding day in Maui.

"Please, please, please! Can we get some decorations?" begged Natalie.

Luckily, Dollar Tree had an aisle-full of Luau-inspired party ware. That evening, she insisted on setting up a spot for Steve and I in the living room and told me she and Noah would eat in the kitchen. While Steve and I enjoyed Chinese take-out served by our 8 year old, the kids dined on pizza. Natalie wanted to be our server so we could "relax".  She even got out our dice and encouraged us to play Yahtzee and sip our wine in peace. After dinner she found some Don Ho and Israel Kamakawiwo'ole on Pandora and performed a little Hawaiian dance for us.

As Steve handed me my card he said, "I didn't know whether to get you a sympathy card or an anniversary card."

The only sympathy needed is for those who haven't had the opportunity to share their life with someone.  So, while no lace was exchanged, over the years we have created a tapestry of rich memories -- woven together are good times and bad, support and love. 

Happy Anniversary, Steve!

Natalie looked up the Hawaiian word for dinner.

"Would you like an appetizer?" asked our grass-skirted server.

Good fortunes

Celebrating Every Day

On Tuesday Steve and I celebrated...I use that term loosely...12 years of marriage.

We didn't hire a sitter or get dressed up and go out to dinner.  We didn't even exchange cards.

While we will never forget the day we said I do on the beautiful beaches of Makena Cove Beach in Maui, we know it's not the day that is most important -- rather all the other days in between. Through ambulance rides, depleted bank accounts, loss of wages and of loved ones.  Our commitment has been tested and through it we've come to have a deeper appreciation for one another.  Loving me isn't something Steve saves for special occasions.  Moreover, he expresses it in a way that shows the kids how special I am to him. He doesn't just tell me he loves me -- he'll say things like, "Noah, did you see how pretty your mama looks today? (never mind that my hair is knotted in an unflattering bun...I'm make-up free and sweaty). He notices when my chocolate stash is low before I do and enjoys surprising me with a new brand to try.  He's a homebody and prefers solitude yet he goes along with all the crazy plans I pack into each and every weekend. He eats whatever I serve him. And, on days when he arrives home from work to find I haven't even started dinner -- he washes his hands and gleefully suggests, "How 'bout I make us breakfast for dinner?!"

On the morning of our anniversary I awoke feeling residual grouchiness towards my beloved over an argument we'd had the night before.  I forgot what day it was until after he had left for work.

Instead of focusing on the negative, I decided to bake us an anniversary cake because I knew as the day progressed things would turn around.  Steve, while a thoughtful person, can be impulsive which means if his mouth and heart were having a race -- you can probably guess which one would win.  However, he's also a very smart man and over the course of our marriage has learned a few things to keep it afloat:
1. Apologize when you are in the wrong or when you've been told that you were in the wrong.
2. It's impossible to be sorry and be right at the same time. 
3. Live by the motto "if mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."
4. When in doubt, apologize.

Through Steve I've learned:
1. I'm not always right...just most of the time.
2. Sometimes it's best to take a step back and think about things before making a decision. This applies to drastic hairstyle changes, home renovations and potty training.
3. Country music is really okay.
4. Worrying is over-rated.
5. When in doubt, apologize.

While traditional 12th anniversary gifts call for silk or linen, more practical givers may choose high-thread bed linen, tablecloths, towels and cushions.  But, no need to limit new coverings to bedrooms and bathrooms.  Right?

I mean..."If you are going to be a bear...be a grizzly."

At least that's what my non-traditional husband is fond of saying.

So, it should come as no surprise that he chose to purchase new coverings... for our entire house (siding, soffit, fascia and gutters) -- to mark 12 years of marital bliss.

But, next Tuesday for no special reason, he'll hand me a bag from my favorite chocolatier or remind me I'm still attractive as he gooses me on his way to the refrigerator. 

We're celebrating...every day.

After we ate cake, Natalie sent us on a scavenger hunt through the house.
At the end she jumped out and yelled "Happy Anniversary!"

11 Years...Steel in Love

Unlike my daughter, my dramatic play as child was always pretty routine. Dress Barbie, do her hair, then "da da da da" down my make-believe church aisle and ta da! She and Ken are married and it's happily ever after.  Time to watch a little Sesame Street, jump rope or grab my hula hoop.  Getting married was always part of my childhood play and my lifetime plan, but I never dreamed how much work it would take or the depths I would go to hold it together.  I was 28 when I met Steve.  At the time we were both seasoned players of "the dating game".  Steve had actually already been down the aisle twice before, but when he asked for my hand, he told me that I made him want to be a better man.  He promised to always take care of me and love me in the way I deserved.  I was smitten by his rugged good looks and jar-head mentality to not only protect me, but treat me with respect and kindness. Loving him has always felt safe and good and the right thing to do.

In 11 years we've had more financial snafus, ER visits and emotional stress than I ever thought I was capable of handling.  However, I believe Steve's unwavering faith in God has strengthened and fortified my own.  Through lots of drier than dirt humor, Steve has helped me find the courage to laugh when I just wanted to lay down and cry.  He's helped me learn to not sweat the small stuff. Over the years I've watched him make good on his promise to do his best to take care of our family.  No matter the cost.  Whether by working overtime, going back to school, beginning a new career, or even participating in medical research to better our family's financial standing.  Several years ago, when we were in the throes of dealing with Noah's health concerns and struggling to make ends meet, Steve began looking for creative ways to earn more money -- and FAST.  He signed up to participate in a research study in exchange for cash.  The assignment required an overnight stay at the facility and involved more than 20 blood draws in a 24 hour period.  When he returned home both of his arms were riddled with bruises.  I gasped in horror, but Steve wasn't the least bit bothered by the event.  A little blood-letting was nothing to my former Marine, who years earlier, had spent time on the front lines.  Later that week Steve found an ad from another lab doing diabetic research.  They were prepared to pay participants $100k in exchange for allowing them to amputate one pinky toe.  

"Can you imagine what we could do with $100k?" Steve suggested.

"It's totally out of the question!" I replied.

"But, it's just one toe...I have nine more," he reasoned.

"No."

(He's now talking to himself because I've gone into the kitchen, but I can still hear him yammering on)

"I wonder if they'd give me $200k if I let them take BOTH little toes...then I wouldn't need to buy two different sized shoes," he continued.

For weeks, Steve found ways to squeeze the topic of "this little piggy went wee wee all the way to the research lab" into our conversations.  Thankfully, God gave us both the gift of bull-headedness and I was able to outlast and out-debate his outlandish scheme to get us out of debt.

11 Years!  Google tells me that the traditional gift is steel...and I believe it.  I just don't plan on buying or receiving cutlery, jewelry or a kitchen appliance as an anniversary gift.  This year...11 years, represents having nerves of steel and the strength, love and commitment needed to carry on for 11 more and beyond.

Happy Anniversary Steve...my very own Man of Steel!

Mauied...10 Years and Counting

Ten years ago today, Steve and I were exchanging I do's on a beach in Maui.  I'd spent about six months planning our trip.  I found us a condo overlooking the mountains in Lahaina. Our accommodations were the only ones located directly on the beach and also walking distance to a smorgasbord of gift shops, art galleries and restaurants.  Although I looked forward to enjoying the tropical breezes and picturesque beaches, I planned to pack in as many activities as we could during our seven day stay. I admit I was less than thrilled about Steve's insistence of doing a 3/4 day, deep sea fishing excursion.  But, I agreed to go since he had gone to the trouble of losing 20+ lbs. in order to meet the weight requirement to ride horses with me. As it turned out, the fishing trip was a total blast -- our crew fought, but later lost the battle with a 500 lb. female Marlin; while our horseback riding activity was uncomfortable and mildly unnerving as the horses refused to obey our commands.

We made it a point to enjoy fresh fish every day...sometimes even for breakfast! We took pleasure in a chocolate and champagne sunset sail and a traditional luau.  Later in the week, in exchange for listening to a time share spiel, we got a real bird's eye view of the Haleakala craters, the Seven Sacred Pools, and the world famous Ho'okipa windsurfing beach from the seat of a helicopter. While perusing the shops, Steve, who didn't want a ring, suddenly got all traditional on me and bought a $30 silver band for our big day.  As we passed a hair salon, I had the urge for a change and so the day before our wedding, allowed a stylist, who spoke very little English, to lop off 5+ inches of my hair, in favor of a trendy 'do.

The morning of our wedding day we met our minister and photographer - a husband and wife team, at Makena Cove Beach.  The minute we stepped onto the sand, we were greeted by two very territorial pit bulls.  In an effort to shoo them away, Steve and our minister, Dennis, shouted and kicked sand as the dogs barked and snapped. I stood frozen and worried we'd all end up in an emergency room.  Thankfully, the dogs finally gave up and ran off.  We all breathed a sigh and took to the beach.

While our photographer, Genevieve, began setting up her equipment, Dennis, a native Hawaiian, took a moment to chat with us and asked whether we'd prefer a traditional ceremony or one that incorporated Hawaiian chants.  We chose the latter.   Just then I noticed a small sign posted that read, "No Weddings Allowed".  Dennis told us not to worry because all Hawaiian beaches are public property and he had married hundreds of couples in the very spot we now stood.  By this time, Genevieve was ready and so was I.  However, as Steve and I gazed into each other's eyes with a heavenly landscape as our backdrop, we were suddenly accosted by a shower of sprinklers.  And then, a barrage of obscenities, as an elderly gentleman dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with muscles silk-screened across the chest, launched on us much like the pit bulls did earlier.  After a heated exchange, in which our uninvited guest tossed out racial slurs like daggers, our minister responded by pitching the garden sprinklers out of range.  The man stormed off and shouted threats of calling the police.  At this point, Dennis turned to me and asked, "What do you want to do?"  My response was immediate and unwavering, "I want to get married!"  So, with the angry man gone and the sprinklers off, Steve and I got hitched.  Though after the ceremony we were introduced to the Maui Police Department.  After taking our statements, we learned that Dennis was right - the beach was public and not only that, by calling the police, the gentleman, inadvertently tipped them off to an illegal bed and breakfast he was running out of his own home!  Sometimes Karma works really fast.

And to think it all started with one date...

The Blind Date

Agreed
I will see him.
A small town man, a former Marine

No
I will drive myself.
A 1996 strawberry Neon

Resigned
I will go through the motions.
A romantic comedy, a two-hour distraction

Shapeless
I will be unattractive.
An oversized crew, a pair of baggy, corduroy carpenters

Hi
I will look past his outdated wardrobe. 
A Bill Cosby sweater, a pair of scuffed, leather shit-kickers

Guarded
I will be polite.
An exchange of the basics, a familiar territory

Breathe
I will relax.
A pair of tickets, a jumbo popcorn

Surprise
I will accept he is being sincere.
A lopsided grin, his hazel eyes trained on me

Darkness
I will enjoy the show.
A nearly empty theatre, a lot of shared laughs

Brightness
I will enjoy reliving this moment
A short walk to my car, a stance wavering

Yes
I will go out to dinner.
A 1986 silver Grand Marquis

Blind-sided