On our first anniversary, we stayed in a hotel room downtown and planned to spend the following day exploring the lower part of this grand city we live in and ending at Giorgio's of Gramercy where we had our first date. All went according to plan until you got sick. We went home early and you went to bed.
On our second anniversary, you were sick, so we did nothing.
I don't even remember our 3rd.
The 4th was a low point and just a comedy of tragic errors. You made good plans, but the research was a little faulty. You wanted to take me to this place in Chelsea Market that has milkshakes made from milk from a local dairy farm I like. Then you wanted to show me something at the Mac store and we were going to end the night on the Highline. All awesome ideas... except Chelsea Market closes early. The place you wanted to take me was closed and our other options for eating were limited. By the time we were done eating, the Mac store was closed and so was the Highline. I said we should just go home before things got worse. It was not a happy evening. I might have had a meltdown. I made you promise that our 5th would be out of this world awesome.
Well, happy 5th anniversary and thank you Stake Conference for making sure we had 5 bad anniversaries in a row. I mentioned on our walk to the subway following the adult session that we are probably the only people on the planet who attend stake conference on their anniversary... with their kids. I came home, put the kids to bed, had cereal for dinner. I might have had a meltdown.
The good news is 5 anniversaries is nothing compared to the 60+ I hope we have. And the eternity thereafter. At this point, the anniversaries that are more like bad first dates are becoming almost comical... after the meltdown. It surprises me sometimes how it's been 5 years of great marriage, more than 6 that we've been together, and more than 8 that we have known each other and I started craving hugs from you whenever I saw you. It used to be that I couldn't imagine dating anyone for more than a few months before the boredom set in, which meant imagining marriage impossible because that meant an eternity with someone. I couldn't imagine loving anyone for that long or not getting bored. But you have done it. I never get bored. It's been 5 years, and I still want you around just as much if not more than I did when we started dating. I hate that part of the morning when you get ready to go to work. The only thing that saves me from wallowing in my own sadness at your departure is watching your boys say goodbye to you at the door. I spend a good 5-10 minutes before you leave busying myself and preparing for your absence. I just like having you around. Saturdays just aren't enough for me.
I feel so fortunate that you love me. Adore me. Serve me. Take care of me. And put up with me. I feel fortunate to have these awesome little boys we call ours, who love you and miss you almost as much as I do every day. I feel fortunate to have a husband who loves his family.
I feel fortunate that you are mine. All mine. Forever.
