We wanted a big celebration. We had actually talked about doing the whole thing over again, only on a smaller scale. But we had just finished throwing his parents a 50th anniversary bash and, well… we were tired. Still in the trenches with those little people. Still getting up through the night occasionally. Throwing food at them 20 times a day. Dealing with all of the big emotions from tiny bodies.
The only time to plan anything is after they had gone to bed and by that time, we were too tired to think straight. I thought back to that day and what a good day it was. It wasn’t reality, but in our heads we thought we were so young. OK, so we looked a lot younger than we do now. Dave was only about 20% gray. I was super thin from a life of athletics and clean-ish eating.
I looked down at my dress and smoothed it out. “Thank you body shaper,” I thought to myself. I mean, I can’t complain much. Pregnancy was pretty good to me and only mildly stretched me out. But those tailored dresses I wore prior to kids? Pffffffff….. they’re still hanging in my closet because I’m not ready to face the super fast change that had happened to me in five years. I’m not ready to let them go until I’ve grieved my previous body and given it a proper burial.
But those tailored dresses I wore prior to kids? Pffffffff….. they’re still hanging in my closet because I’m not ready to face the super fast change that had happened to me in five years.
I smiled at the handsome, graying man sitting across from me. Our anniversary this year was on a Thursday. Dave got out of work as early as he could and he made reservations at our favorite restaurant. He wanted it to be a surprise, but I knew as soon as he pointed the car southbound on the 101. I love that he wanted to surprise me anyway.
I started looking through the menu and at the same time, listened in on the table next to me. I can’t help it. I find people interesting. I wanted to inject myself into their conversation and was just about to do it, but thought, “Give Dave a break Sara. Let’s not unduly embarrass him on the anniversary night.” The man was so gracious to put up with my quirks for the rest of the year, the least I could do was stay in my lane tonight. We fell into our easy banter of talking about our day, inside jokes, things the kids said.
We downed the appetizers and then our entrees came. Dave paused and he looked at me. “You know I’d do it all over again, times 10,000.” He had tears in his eyes and I just started bawling. It was then that I learned my mascara was going in the trash when I got home. I sniffed myself to a stop and I said, “I have raccoon eyes, don’t I. *Insert long pause* It’s bad, isn’t it?” Dave nodded in assention.
I tried not to look anyone in the eye as I left for the ladies’ room. On my way there, I thought about what Dave said and the flashes of all we had been through together in the last ten years: Moving his parents from NY to Phoenix, merging our own households… raising three dogs, having one die in our arms. Losing babies to miscarriage. Facing the gaping black hole of infertility…trusting God that He is faithful. Welcoming three little boys back-to-back… overjoyed and overwhelmed. Struggling with the instability and long hours of medical private practice. Facing our own advanced age in parenthood as well as the advancing age of our parents. One day at a time, sweet Jesus. These are all really big things.
“You know I’d do it all over again, times 10,000.” He had tears in his eyes and I just started bawling. It was then that I learned my mascara was going in the trash when I got home.
And yet, the daily banter, the art of choosing each other and choosing joy lightens the load of such big things. Thank you Jesus for showing us the example of how You live. We haven’t always gotten it right. We get our feelings hurt, we crumble from the stress of raising three very young boys and denying ourselves so much it’s just agonizing at times. But when he comes home, I perk up. I can’t wait for that big hug through the door. Sometimes, I collapse in his arms and he supports me as I’m down to my last gallon in a car that has stalled on the side of the road. Sometimes, the hug is conciliatory, as we had been feuding and we call it a truce. Sometimes, I know what kind of day he’s had and I hug to tell him he’s here and it’s ok to just be.
I’ve always loved Tim Kimmel’s definition of Love: “Love is the commitment of my will to your needs and best interests, regardless of the cost.” We’ve been walking it out and working it out together for 10 years. Learning to dance more fluidly together. When I hear him say out of the blue, “I’d do it all over again,” I know that’s figuratively speaking. We don’t really want to do it all over again. THAT’S WAY TOO MUCH WORK. Besides, we have more work coming down the pipeline in the next 10 years. Whatever it is, I look forward to it because I’m doing that work with David Lin. And he makes me smile.
Maybe we’ll throw another bash in 10 years. By then, our boys will be teenagers and fully embarrassed that their parents want to celebrate the fact that they love each other. We’ll definitely be a lot gray-er. I’ll have some grays by then and Dave may be fully gray. I’ll probably wear a new dress. Something that isn’t quite so tailored and form-fitting. But my original dress will likely still be hanging in my closet.
Because… you know… I won’t be ready to face the super fast change that has happened to me in 20 years.
