On this, our anniversary…

Today is our anniversary. We’ve been blessed with 15 years of marriage. It wasn’t the day I had envisioned. Instead of smelling perfume and sizzling steaks from Ruth’s Chris – the scent of Febreeze is wafting through the house, and we enjoyed waffles for dinner. Peanut got sick this morning – icky, awful, spit-up-all-over-the-couch sick. It wasn’t like our anniversary was going to be an event, or that we had planned something, but I had sort of hoped for more than this day.

I was exhausted by 2, and so my generous husband left work early to come home and help me tend to the basics. I wasn’t wallowing in self pity by this point, but somewhere around waffles and choking down the Febreeze that is attempting to cover up the smell of curdled chocolate milk soaked into our couch cushions, I began to feel a little cheated.

By the time we all sat down to pray the Rosary tonight, Peanut was doing much better. This morning’s two episodes seemed to have been isolated. He hadn’t run any fever today. And he was begging for, and proceeded to consume 1 1/2 pieces of our homemade whole wheat bread along with some tea. Rob offered his Rosary intentions for the little Peanut’s recovery. Somewhat amazed, Peanut looked up from his bread and asked “fuh meeeeee?”

“Yes, Peanut, for you.”

He smiled and continued eating. I spent the rest of the Rosary utterly thankful for the last 15 years. There is no doubt they have been grace filled. God has gifted us with 6 children, 6 blessings that have each brought immeasurable joy into our lives. We have been changed because of them. We have been allowed to embrace great joy, and great suffering in our marriage – all blessings that have served to pull us closer to each other and to the Giver of Life. I couldn’t have imagined my life would be so full, so rich, so joyful all because I married this man.

So tonight, I can’t say I wouldn’t change a thing about this day. I think I might forgo the vomiting episodes. But, truthfully, I’m grateful for the challenge of this day. It has forced me to recognize that today is not about celebrating over a great dinner, or flowers, or anything else. Today is about the comfort and assurance that even on my 15th anniversary, when my gigantic 8 month pregnant belly is swaddled in a tattered blue robe, there’s still this great man who will walk through that door and make me feel loved. He’ll quietly and without complaint start the dishes, pick up where the laundry stopped, make the bread and still somehow find time to gorilla glue Peanut’s little wooden bulldozer back together. That’s love. Plain and simple. There’s this man who will offer his Rosary intentions for his littlest to feel better. That is the man I married 15 years ago.

You have my heart Rob!