So yesterday was our 8th wedding anniversary. The husband and I are a bit crap about our wedding anniversary though. We actually tend to forget it quite regularly, which we both find amusing rather than deem it evidence of a lack of love. It took us so long to actually get married that we don’t count our wedding day anniversary as much. Instead we are more likely to celebrate our “let’s be exclusive” anniversary. Because the thing is: we’ve been pretty much all in since the beginning.
We did go out and have breakfast yesterday though. There’s a little coffee shop in town called Buttercup and it’s as cute as it sounds. The lady who cooks the food is so adorable. I’m kicking myself for not asking for her name! The point is we made a small effort to celebrate, and it was pleasant.
It’s a cliche to say, but in our years together we have been through quite a lot. Blending two families, for one, is not for the weak. Marrying anyone who went to an all boys boarding school is also not for the weak! (I stand fully by this observation) And being married to a woman who is ill (and is me) is certainly not for the weak either. And yet here we both still are.
Last night we sat in bed watching The Laundromat which is a very serious movie (this after discounting so many other movies for being too serious – oops) and I was crocheting a blanket and Ty was scrolling on his phone and I realised not for the first time that here just quietly sitting with this man is truly my favourite place to be. Sometimes we do it in other places, even other countries, this sitting quietly thing, and it’s exactly the same no matter where we are.
So I think he’s home. Wherever he is, that’s where home is.
Sometimes I look at us and I think yes, this is what marriage is supposed to be. And I’m not sure how we accidentally got it right. I’m just glad we did…