Four years married seems downright puny compared to the (relative) mammoth eleven years total. I imagine a dainty 4 year old trying to outwit a lumbering 6th grader: it’s just not a fair match. But a milestone is a milestone. Happy anniversary, EJV. I have to admit– marriage hasn’t been nearly as hard as the dating was. I suppose early years are tough, regardless of rings and marital status. And now, I look back very fondly to those stumbling, struggling kids. They were so stubborn, and helpless, and confused about the grand scheme of things. They thought being right signaled being smart, and didn’t understand that right doesn’t mean happy. They fought about some valid things, and some very stupid things. They drank too much, slept too little, and spent too much time seeking validation from people who would never give it. They drank trunk wine, ate cheese for a solid third of their meals, and probably drove the neighbors nuts. They were loving and kind to one another, and not just to make up for treating each other badly. They had Sunday morning waffle rituals, and first snow of the year rituals, and once cooked a turkey on a Tuesday morning.
All this is to say: marrying you wasn’t the best day of my life. It was certainly fun, and I have great memories from that day. But our life together is so much more than that. It’s the days between the big events: eating dinner on the kitchen floor while our boy twirls on blueberries, touring Sam Adams and smelling like fresh hops, scouting new coffee places on our Saturday morning dates. It’s planning our next trip, our next move, our next kid. It’s drinking coffee out of our h & j mugs, and discussing the literary references in Californication.
I love this life with you, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.