Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts

Saturday, June 9, 2018

A Prime Marriage


Seventeen is a prime number - the seventh prime number (assuming you don’t count 1) to be specific. Prime numbers are important in math for many reasons, and are foundational to the encryption which allows us to have secure internet transactions.

Amanda and I have now been married seventeen years. As has been my tradition since I started this blog, I have written a little something for our anniversary. This year, I am going with “prime” as the theme, in honor of the seventh prime number - and an equal number of years. All definitions are from the Oxford English Dictionary.

1. Prime (adjective): Of first importance; main.

My relationship with Amanda is my most important - and main relationship. She is my best friend, my lover, my favorite person in the world.

2. Prime (adjective): From which another thing may derive or proceed.

For the last 17 years, everything has derived or proceeded from our marriage. Well, certainly the 5 kids, but also our life has centered around each other. The lives we have built together directly derive and proceed from the relationship. Without each other, things would likely have turned out quite differently for us.

3. Prime (adjective): Of the best possible quality; excellent.

Amanda is a woman (and person) of the best possible quality. Excellence is one of her salient attributes. As a result, I am in a marriage of the highest quality.

4. Prime (adjective): Having all the typical characteristics of something.

Amanda is a prime example - she has all the typical characteristics of a good spouse. She is loving, hard working, honest, competent, affectionate, patient, and more. I cannot imagine a better person to share my life with.

5. Prime (adjective): Most suitable or likely.

Amanda is, as it turns out, highly suitable to be my spouse. I’m not so sure it was likely, however. I still can’t believe she chose me. But, since she did, I suppose the chances are 100%...

6. Prime [number] (adjective): divisible only by itself and unity

Amanda and I are two and one in that mysterious way that a good marriage works. We are divisible by ourselves and unity only.

7. Prime (noun): The state or time of greatest vigour or success in a person's life.

My time with Amanda has indeed been the best time of my life. If you count the time we were dating, we are rapidly approaching half of my life together. (And already half of hers.)

8: Prime (noun): The beginning of something. (archaic)

When we met, it was indeed the beginning of something. Eventually, our life together.

9. Prime (verb): Make (something) ready for use or action.

We both make each other better. We are able to function as we best can, because the other covers for the other’s weakness, and carries the other when needed.

10: Prime (verb): Induce a susceptibility or proclivity in (an animal, person, or tissue)

Amanda definitely induces a susceptibility or proclivity in me. A proclivity toward mushiness, obviously, and, ahem, other things.

11. Prime (verb): Prepare (someone) for a situation, typically by supplying them with relevant information.

My relationship with Amanda prepares me for the rest of life. She is a source of stability and purpose, and a source of advice and assistance whenever I need it.

Well, couldn’t quite get to 17 definitions, but 11 is a prime too, so I’ll go with that.

Happy anniversary, dearest Amanda, and may we have many more!

 At Nevada Falls, Yosemite National Park, on our anniversary last year.

***

If you want to read prior installments, here is the list:



Friday, June 9, 2017

Changing Together - 16th Anniversary

Although it obviously wasn’t original with him, my dad used to say that women marry expecting men to change, and that men marry women expecting they won’t - and both are wrong. There is a bit of gender essentialism here that I don’t quite agree with, but there is a certain amount of truth to the idea. One might rephrase it that we go into marriage expecting that some things will change - and we are often wrong - and that other things won’t change - and we are often wrong about that too.

Clearly, no one should marry intending that their spouse be their little improvement project. We humans are remarkably set in our personalities from birth. (Having five kids who are all different from each other in temperament made this pretty dang clear.) So we shouldn’t expect to be able to change our spouse.

On the flip side, though, none of us are the same person after a decade of marriage as we were before. For that matter, are any of us the same as we were a decade ago, leaving the issue of marriage out of it? I would hope we are not. I am glad I have grown up a bit since my teens; and I am glad I am not the same person I was when I married at 24. He who does not grow remains stunted. (Le Toupee is a great example…)

So, yes, I am essentially the same person I was when I married. But I am also a very different person. And so is my beloved wife, Amanda.

Today is our 16th Anniversary.

When we married, we were both pretty young - she was barely 21, and marriage was not really in her plans before we fell in love. We still had a lot of baggage from our Fundamentalist days, which led to some hilarious-in-retrospect moments like our “dating contract,” and her insistence that “obey” be in our wedding vows - I was more egalitarian, so I let her have her way. Neither of us in our present form would repeat those specific decisions now. Because we have both changed.

If you think about it, this really was inevitable. We have had five children together, and now are entering the teen years with some of them. We have read literally hundreds of books, gone through some traumatic experiences with extended family and church, made major life decisions together, made new friends, learned many things through experience and research, built careers, and just a whole bunch of stuff. We have both been shaped by these experiences and decisions. We have both changed.

I am no longer married to a 21 year old living on her own for the first time. (Not that she wasn’t competent - even then she had mad skills.) She is no longer married to a twenty-something trying to figure out the legal profession. I have a couple more inches around the waist. Her wedding dress won’t fit over her biceps after 15 years of turning 400 pound patients. We both have some grey and smile lines creeping in. We are technically middle age - although we don’t really feel that way inside.

I know that we will both continue to grow and change as we age in the future.

But what I must say is this: there is something magical about growing together. Changing together. Experiencing a friendship that itself changes both of us. We were always pretty good at connecting, but we can read each other’s thoughts even better now, after these 16 years of marriage. (18 together - and yes I count them)

Amanda says I have mellowed. It’s true. And so has she. We have learned enough about the way the other acts and reacts that we roll with it, because it is familiar, and we know how the other works out frustration and stress. More than ever, we know how to ease each other’s stress, and when to step in and when to give space. It is a dance, and we know the steps better than ever. And the dance doesn’t get old. The familiar notes awaken a sense of peace and belonging and mutual love. This is companionate, egalitarian marriage. We are better together, stronger together, happier together, more at peace together.

Life is a journey, not a fixed place. We may not know the future, but we know there will be things we do not expect. It is truly a blessing to have a friend and companion to share the journey with me, and I do my best to be pleasant company for her as well. Wherever our roads may lead, my dearest wish is that I walk them with her.

***

Last summer, we had the chance to visit Paris - Amanda’s first time overseas. This is my favorite picture from a professional photo shoot we had there. 

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Other Anniversary and mushy posts:

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Just a bit of music from local funk fusion band Soulajar: Outweigh the Bad. Life and marriage aren’t perfect, but in a good marriage, even in troubled times, the good times outweigh the bad.


Thursday, June 9, 2016

What I Learned About My Wife in Fifteen Years of Marriage

One of the things that well meaning people tell young people considering marriage is some variation on this:

“Just wait until you get married. Then you will really get to know all of the annoying things about your spouse.”

Some of the “christian perspective” ones are even more dour, explaining that you really won’t discover just how bad a sinner your spouse is until you have to live with them day in and day out.

Now I do get it. Marriage isn’t all wine and roses, and none of us are at our best all the time. I myself am a lot harder to live with after weeks on end of getting up several times a night to feed a baby. I understand the desire to prevent naive youngsters from thinking infatuation lasts exactly how it starts. I get that they don’t want young married folk to think that it is abnormal to have disagreements or to feel unhappy.

I do want to offer a different perspective.

My wife and I celebrate 15 years of marriage today.

We’ve had five kids together, been through the ups and downs. We’ve had a lot of nights up with the kids, had our days and weeks of frustration and stress.

But one thing I can say is this:

What I have learned about my wife over the last 15 years are not her faults. I have learned so much about her strengths.

I have learned that my wife has incredible stamina - more than me. She can go on less sleep, do more physically and mentally, and still keep her wits and good sense about her.

I have learned that my wife can carry me when I need it. I am an emotional guy, I have my insecurities and fears, and I don’t always handle change or uncertainty well. My wife has been my rock in these moments. She has a strength that amazes me.

I have learned that my wife loves me even when I am most difficult to be around.

I have learned that my wife loves the me that I am, not the me that she planned to make me. I have never been a “project” in her eyes.

I have learned that my wife isn’t afraid of anyone, which is more than I can say for most people I know. She will stand up to bullies and isn’t afraid to have her name on it.

I have learned that my wife can fabricate pretty much anything. Portcullis from duct tape? Costume dress from a photograph? Correct errors in a knitting pattern? Gluten free cream puffs so a friend can eat them? She does it all and more.

I have learned that my wife actually does like to snuggle, even if it took a bit of time for her to realize it herself.

I have learned that she thrives on respect, and have learned to give it to her.

I have learned that every self help book that purports to know “what women are like” is dead wrong about my wife.

I have learned that - unlike me - she can down a large coffee and go to sleep an hour later.

I have learned that I will never regret asking for her advice and counsel. Every time I have listened to her, I have been glad I did.

I have learned that she has excellent judgment and a level head.

I have learned that together we can accomplish pretty nearly anything.

I learned that if the world needed saving, she would be the one I’d want in charge, and would gladly be her goofy sidekick.

I have learned that she is the very best sort of best friend anyone could have.

I learned that I have had a shot at love that most people will never have.

In short, what I have learned about my wife in 15 years of marriage is that she is much more, much better, and much more loveable than I realized when I married her.

Had I known what she was really like, rather than hesitate before marriage, I would have been that much more eager to walk down that aisle. Because I have discovered that she is more than I could ever have expected. 

The lovely Amanda earlier this year.

***

One of the songs that became “ours” in the last couple of years:

So I'll say 'why don't you and I get together and take on the world
and be together forever
Heads we will and tails we'll try again'
So I say 'why don't you and I hold each other and fly to the moon
and straight on to heaven
Cause without you they're never going to let me in’

***

If you want to read more mushy posts, here is the list:

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

A Fortnight of Years

A fortnight of years. A stone’s weight of years. The Moonlight Sonata of anniversaries. The architect’s version of 13. However you want to look at it, It’s both a long time and a short time.

Fourteen years ago, my lovely bride and I promised to love, honor, and cherish, and set out to build a life together. There have been so many twists and turns, and I doubt either of us would have believed it had we been told how we would be at this time. Perhaps neither of us would have dared to hope that we would have been able to build the life we have, and neither of us could have foreseen some of the challenges we have had to face together.

We’ve changed, and grown, together. We’ve taken on the world hand in hand. I’ve been told we make a good team, and I believe it. There’s certainly nobody I would rather have on my team.

It has been said that true lovers finish each other’s sentences, and that statement is true. But true lovers also share times where they both scream quietly together in an effort to avoid insanity. Sometimes, true lovers telepathically bring the right things home from the grocery store, because we just know. And so many times I can no longer estimate, let alone count, we will come home and breathe sighs of mutual relaxation in each other’s arms.

Fourteen years, and we fit together so closely that we cannot fathom how we ever were without each other.

Fourteen is also the number of lines in a sonnet. And, since that is my favorite poetic form, here are a few that express my love toward the lovely Amanda.

***

William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116


Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
          If this be error and upon me proved,
          I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

***

Edmund Spenser,  LXIV from Amoretti


Coming to kiss her lips, (such grace I found)
Me seemed I smelled a garden of sweet flowers,
That dainty odors from them threw around
For damsels fit to deck their lovers' bowers.
Her lips did smell like unto Gillyflowers,
Her ruddy cheeks like unto Roses red:
Her snowy brows like budded Bellamores,
Her lovely eyes like Pinks but newly spread.
Her goodly bosom like a strawberry bed,
Her neck like to a bunch of Columbines:
Her breast like Lillies, ere their leaves be shed,
Her nipples like young blossomed Jasmines.
Such fragrant flowers do give most odorous smell,
But her sweet odor did them all excel.

    ***

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet XXIX

I think of thee!---my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee, as wild vines, about a tree,
Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see
Except the straggling green which hides the wood.
Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
I will not have my thoughts instead of thee
Who art dearer, better! Rather, instantly
Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should,
Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,
And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee
Drop heavily down,---burst, shattered, everywhere!
Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee
And breathe within thy shadow a new air,
I do not think of thee---I am too near thee.

    ***

Pablo Neruda, Sonnet 17 (translated by Mark Eisner)                                       
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

***
               
Happy 14th, Dearest. May my eyes always close with your dreams.

At Dapper Day, Disneyland, September 2014


Previous anniversary and mushy posts:

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Thirteen

Thirteen is a portentous number. Perhaps because there are twelve full lunar months in a year, with the leftovers serving as an odd 13th, it has been an object of numerology and superstition in pretty much every culture. It even gets its on seriously cool word: triskaidekaphobia. The fear of 13. I love saying it, because of the way it rolls off my tongue.

I’m not a superstitious guy, so I have tended to embrace the number. When I can, I use 13 as my soccer jersey.

Thirteen is also the age at which a Jewish boy comes of age, or a kid becomes a teenager.

Whatever the reason or the belief, it isn’t an everyday number.  

Today, June 9, I celebrate 13 years of marriage to my best friend, the lovely, intelligent, and sweet Amanda Joy.

Thirteen years ago, I walked down the aisle with my bride to the strains of Mendelssohn’s march. No mix-up of identities, but I do suspect we had a little of the wild pansy in our eyes at the time.

Soon, we set off together - as we had done before - but with a difference. Our lives were now together.

There is a lot I remember from our honeymoon, because we had a delightful time. Hawaii wasn’t in our budget, so we just took a few days on the Central California coast - a place we both still love. Like our future trips, it contained explorations, good food, and of course the best company possible.

Amanda at Julia Pfieffer Burns State Park, on our Honeymoon

I remember driving through Atascadero. We intentionally forewent the silly bouquet and garter toss, but Amanda still found a garter somewhere or another, and I hung it from the rearview mirror. We got honks and thumbs up from a few people. I wonder if they thought I had eloped with a bridesmaid.

It was thrilling and yet foreign to check into a hotel together. Husband and wife. Only one bed needed.

The one thing that still sticks with me, though, is the sweetest part of starting married life together. Before, every night, we would have to part. I would go back home and go to bed, and wake up by myself.

For the first time, though, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. And woke up lying next to each other. That first morning kiss, with our tousled hair and sleepy eyes.

Perhaps I still love this so much because I can’t take it for granted. Amanda works two night shifts a week, and she doesn’t join our camping trips, so there are plenty of nights that I don’t get to hold her. But still, more often than not, we drift off to sleep together, and see each other as we open our eyes. It never gets old. My best friend, my lover, the one I always wish to wake up to. Thirteen years. And, I hope many more to come.

Amanda at the LA Music Center, on our (slightly early) anniversary trip this year

This was one of our favorite songs while we were dating:

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older
Then we wouldn't have to wait so long
And wouldn't it be nice to live together
In the kind of world where we belong

You know its gonna make it that much better
When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up
In the morning when the day is new
And after having spent the day together
Hold each other close the whole night through

Happy times together we've been spending
I wish that every kiss was neverending
Wouldn't it be nice

Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true
Baby then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do
We could be married
And then we'd be happy

Wouldn't it be nice

You know it seems the more we talk about it
It only makes it worse to live without it
But lets talk about it
Wouldn't it be nice

Good night my baby
Sleep tight my baby




 I’m a hopeless romantic. Here are past anniversary and other mushy posts: