Happy Anniversary, baby!
May 4, 2010
The first conversation I ever had with my future wife, the night we met, was at a salsa dance party. It revolved around three topics. First, death. She had lost her father almost 2 years before, and I had been widowed a year and a half. Second, kids. I had three, she had 15 or 20 nieces and nephews. (We both had plenty to say about children). Third, our spiritual viewpoints. She said, “I practice a kind of a Native American, Catholic, Buddhist thing.” I thought, “This could work!”
She went home and e-mailed a friend: “I’m in trouble and she has children.” I had lunch with my parents the next day and told them “I’ve met someone.”
From that moment, we knew we would be together. The first time she called me (I’d given her every number I had) she talked to my youngest child, who was three. They seemed to get along pretty well, so that was a good sign. By the time I got the phone in my hand, we didn’t have much time left to talk, so I suggested she call after bedtime. She did. Every night.
I think it was within the first month that we began to talk marriage. O.K., I know, stereotypic lesbians bringing the U-Haul to the first date (can’t do that anymore- U-Haul is an Arizona based company). But the thing was, death had made us both more surefooted. If you know a thing to be real and true, you may as well just dive in, because there’s not a moment extra in this life. So we didn’t really hesitate.
For the first year or so, whenever she was asleep I would see her face as it might look in death. Superimposed over this very alive, beautiful love was the echo of my loss. She told me she felt Joanne had entrusted me to her, and she was ready to be there, completely. She was patient about the evidence, in every room of my house (which soon became her house) of another love. Joanne did her part too, by telling me before she died, “you need to love again- don’t waste all we’ve learned together. Maybe it will even be better!” Such a generous gift to the life I would have when she was gone. And my wife has never demanded that I deny the importance of that first marriage.
One night at dinner, within the first 6 months of our relationship, the three year old turned to her and said, “Are you going to die too?” I held my breath. This person I loved but was only beginning to know was going to have to answer the toughest question I could think of. And she said, “I’ll be here as long as you need me.” The deal was sealed.
There have been other losses and other celebrations in our lives since then. One year, 5 of my friends died, all of different causes. There are losses in her large family on a regular basis. We sat together, with two of our children, at my father’s bedside as he died last year. This is life! There are also weddings and births, graduations and housewarmings, holidays and everydays. What a blessing to be in this life together!
So this weekend, I imagine I will feel nearly every emotion a human being can feel. Maybe I’ll even feel them at the same time. I’ll celebrate, I’ll mourn, I’ll eat and drink and sleep. And I know who will be next to me.
At the marriage of our good friends, my wife read the following:
Why is it that people get married?
Because we need a witness to our lives.
There’s a billion people on the planet.
What does any one life really mean?
But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything…
The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things,
All of it… all the time, every day.
You’re saying “Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it.
Your life will not go unwitnessed – because I will be your witness.”
So we’ll forego our usual trip out of town for our anniversary, and we’ll be with our loved ones, our family, and we’ll laugh and cry together… and that’s exactly what our marriage is about.
Happy Anniversary, baby!
(quote from Pittman, spoken by the wife in the movie, “Shall We Dance?” 2004)
May 4, 2010 at 10:35 pm
I love you 2!