Tag archives: marriage
Nothing taps into the hopeless romantic
buried deep beneath my sarcastic exterior like a wedding. Such a magical
event—the couple who radiates happiness, the toasts that bring on laughter and
tears, the music and dancing (I especially love that part!).
I love it all really, but the longer I
am married, the more it is the ceremony itself that affects me. Two optimistic
souls saying, “I’m a nut job. You’re a nut job. Let’s see if we can win this
game of life together.”
Ok, so that’s not in most vows, but
isn’t it ...
This week my parents
celebrated 42 years of marriage. In a Facebook, my mother pondered if anyone
truly understands the promises they are making when they get married. Her
conclusion was that they don’t. Anyone who’s been married a decent length of
time would probably agree—I know I do.
I’m glad my parents
didn’t have a clue when they said their vows because they may not have followed
through. My childhood wasn’t exactly spent basking in the warmth of their happy
marriage. My parents wed at ages 19 and 21. They had me a ...
My husband isn’t a flower man. He’s much too practical to
buy something that will die in a week. In fact, I can count on one hand the
number of times in our 17-year relationship that he’s given me flowers.
There was my birthday two months after we started dating and
a few times when he was working as a bike courier. (Let me tell you, a bleached blond, tan, fit bike
courier bringing you flowers on a Friday evening is hot—even if it is your
husband!). And there was last year right after a wonderful ...
My husband and I celebrate lucky number 13 today. We will
have a nice dinner, throw back a few drinks and enjoy the quiet since our daughter is with my parents, but for the most part, we’ll
leave the fanfare to more newly-married couples.
We won’t reflect upon our wedding vows because, quite
frankly, it’s unlikely either of us remember them. I don’t at least.
I’m sure they said something about promising to love, respect
and cherish. To me, the first two were prerequisites to the wedding ceremony
itself. The third makes me envision a ...
As we slowly box up our house for our move from
Denver to Milwaukee, it seems as though I’m not just closing the lid on the
Colorado chapter of our lives. I am also shutting the door to my youth.
Flipping through photo albums (real ones not
digital), I marvel at the fresh, hopeful, totally wrinkle-free faces that gaze
leisurely back at me. How smooth my skin was, how smoking hot my husband was,
how freely we smiled.
We weren’t children when we moved to Colorado,
but this sunny state is where we became adults. Here is where ...