Anniversal Thought

(repost from Oct0ber 2006)

Anniversal Thought

My Anniversary was Monday. I wrote this in my journal... not really intending to send it to anyone. But finishing as much as I could before work called for me, I decided to send it along to my wife, with a note telling her that "this was in my journal today, I thought you might want to know". She thought I meant "BLOG". I meant journal. Diary. She posted it.

Oops. Ok... for a second that I kinda had that awkward-forgot-to-put-on-my-pants-before-leaving-the-house look, but then I realized it was just not a big deal. It was for her... and if other people care to know, then so what? I don't. So in the spirit of glasnost, I am sharing it with you here: regard it as you wish, if at all:

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At a glance little has changed from any other day. A seemingly familiar moment. The van hums along, the rotary of the tires on the road, the inane babble of radio sports guys, boxes shifting in the back of a cluttered minivan. These fall trees bend over the road in their final burst of color before withering away. An expressway looms out there somewhere to lead me to my next appointed task.

I've been here before. So many days that seemed like this with swirls of coffee poking through my travel mug, but not so. The calendar reminds me I have been married 13 years today. Thirteen years. How can that be? Considering my numerous identity changes via serial maternal remarriage, I cannot imagine this fidelity exists. Yet here it is.

Hindsight has shown me a pattern of fearful protection and estrangement that at a glance looks a lot like me: aloof, thoughtful, quiet, alone. I know many, and befriend few. Its not about trust... I trust we all fit a role when the circumstances fit. No... Its more about something else. I am not sure what exactly to call it. Acceptance? I don't want anyone's. But, in my reclusive innerspace I've felt alone. For so, so long. Its easy to find a rut, to avoid the awareness of change and growth... These routines help. The radio and the swirling wisps of coffee steam are a great sedative tonic, and with them, I could lose myself for years without paying not to the precious moment that is here. The calendar reminds me.

The leaves looked just like this 17 years ago as I walked to a dorm with my friend Garry. He knew some people. I went along with a few guys. I am not sure if I said anything, but I was supposed to interview sorority girls as part of pledging my fraternity. I remember seeing her for the first time and she was so beautiful. Luminous eyes that looked right through me, past the thin veneer I tried to put up and into a place I let know one see. It was hard to breathe. The moment passed. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was weird. I'm not sure she even noticed me, but I felt so exposed. I didn't try to talk to her afterward. She was beautiful. Stunning. She had certainly a long line of better men awaiting a chance to see her. Honestly, I am not sure I liked the idea of feeling so vulnerable.

Yet I did. After the shock wore off, I thought about it. I'd felt so alone. That no one would want to be in that place with me. Someone would see me, my need: see me and go. That was a pain I didn't want to think about. There were other things to think about... An education. A career. So I found a routine... A distraction... Time went by.

The following March, I stood in the foyer of the fraternity house watching drunk people. Somehow I got stuck being the Safe-Ride on St. Patrick's Day. Not that I was into green. I hated the idea of anyone telling me what to do. Wear green? Whatever. I probably looked more like Johnny Cash than St. Patrick. It was hard to hear... Hard to mingle with drunks who, despite their oblivion smell like cigarettes and beer to those with any remaining sense. Honestly... I was miserable. My heart was as dark as my clothing.

And then I saw her again. She was dressed like a Leprachaun! And she had a friend with her... She mingled, danced, hugged people and then walked up to me. She said something. I'm sure I couldn't understand... The noise from the music, or my chest pounding... She and her friend made smalltalk. I tried not to look at Lisa. When my eyes met hers I felt a tightness in my chest. Tingling. Is that what they mean by electricity? The night was a blur. She was also a safe-ride. Weird. What are the odds. We talked. She was interested in talking to me. I wanted to take her up into my arms and kiss her... But couldn't. She needed a ride to her dorm at night's end. I was happy to oblige. She stood there waiting for me as I got out of the car. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to kiss her. She looked at me. I wanted to kiss her. I gave her a hug.

I am so lame.

Lame.
Lame.
Lame

She dated me! I fell in love with her. Did I? Fall? I was afraid of how much I felt for her. Worried about being seen for the person that I am and unwanted. And how could she possibly want me? Why me? It could be anyone. It was so hard to imagine. But she was there. She was with me as the season passed in school, and I felt a growing comfort in being loved despite my fears... And growing routine.

I worried about my career. What I'd be... If I'd be any good. I wanted to help people. Touch lives. Felt like I had no choice but what I should do with my career. My heart was not in it. I was afraid marriage would ruin my postgrad work... Lack of attention to devote. Fear of two kinds of failure. Simultaneously. But I felt love. And a sense that it was unsure what would come next.

I asked her to marry me. She said yes. I have never been more grateful.

I graduated. We married shortly thereafter. It was a cold overcast day, like this one. It rained slightly. The sky brooded and loosed short tantrums of rain. I waited for someone to pick me up. We were late. The cumberbuns did not match. Someone ran to get it fixed. I stood in the middle of a two lane street, no cars to be seen anywhere. Just a soft misting rain. Leaves in full color stretching over the street, collecting in harvest toned piles along the curb.

I was nervous.

The ceremony began. I was so nervous. She walked down the aisle... Those eyes. She was so beautiful. So happy. And she looked into my eyes. I felt tears coming. I tried to look away. Think about something else. But I couldn't. I wanted to feel it all. The everything. It was so hard to taken in. I felt overwhelmed. My lungs seemed too small. I tried to breathe.

The minister asked me to repeat after him. I could barely speak. I felt an infinity of tears welling up inside of me, the release of a lifetime of fear, of not being wanted, loved, accepted. I tried to speak clearly. My words work hoarse. A scant whisper.

She held my hand and looked into me and smiled. I will never forget that gaze. Then she looked right at me and said her vow, to love me, in sickness and health, for richer and poorer, and forsaking all others said she'd love me til death parted us... Thirteen years ago.

And so much has changed. And not changed. I'm more honest now about my fears, but probably don't show it any better. I still reach for defensive rountines full of nothingness... Television, work, excercise, food. But I've been able to see through it all that she loves me. She loves so freely. She is more beautiful than ever. And I've learned so much about life because of her. I've seen love. God can be no more gracious.

But marriage hasn't made me a perfect man. No... I still wonder how she could love me... what it is that I do for her. I still feel unworthy of the gift I've been given. I am grateful. Humbled. Over time I've seen conflicts and traumas, and she loves me. I see it. Feel it. We've made kids together that share in her gifts. Beautiful people.

I feel so much for her; a love that is comfortable and uncomfortable. The routines feel good until they become routine... And then she changes. Another facet turn of a priceless gem. She hates routine... And I see than I can choose to curmudgeon, or drink deeply from her cup of life. A drink that is different every minute.

So at a glance, the rain, the coffee... The radio guy. Its all like every other moment. A reminder on the calendar asks me to make this real. To see it for what it is. And I do... And its so beautiful, I feel so happy... I feel tears welling in my eyes. And a doctor's office waits for me. I have to think about them now... Or I'll be a mess.