Today is our seven-year anniversary.
And while I don't know much about numerology, I do know that the number 8 is considered to be good luck in the Chinese culture; hence the start of the Summer Olympics in Beijing on 08/08/08 at 8:08 pm. I also know that 13 is not a good number, especially when coupled with a Friday. Many hotels and office buildings skip the floor all together. Twenty-one rates high both in bars and the blackjack table. I turned 44 on Monday. It seems like it should be a good number; the two 4s side by side give me that impression, but I have no rhyme or reason for my madness. My friend
Christy informed me in my birthday card that this was the last year of my early-forties. Thank you,
Christy. Maybe that's a good thing, but it remains to be seen.
Seven too is somewhat of a lucky charm. Three 7s in a row on a slot machine usually means a jackpot. On the flip side, there's seven years of bad luck if you break a mirror. And more importantly, on the marriage front, it invokes the seven-year itch. A period in your marriage where you start to evaluate your relationship that in many cases doesn't deem good results. It used to be the average marriage lasted only seven years back in the day when the term derived. I think now that number is on the lower end.
With no feeling of itchiness, the day began with an exchange of cards. D says this is the first time in seven years I have given him an anniversary card, and he may be right. I know I bought one for our first year, but we were in DC on the actual day and I forgot to pack it in my suitcase before boarding the plane from AZ. I quit after that failed attempt. This year, however, he got a card and a present: A new wedding band to replace the one he lost over six months ago. I thought it was the perfect gift for the occasion.
The morning continued and I tagged along with him and the kids on their weekly Sunday ritual of going to TOP Foods for donuts and coffee. The plan for the day was to go to Emerald Downs to the horse races with a pit stop at
Ikea to pick up a new hamper but that fell by the wayside after Ms nap. D then decided to cook up some
ahi tuna for dinner and went to Trader Joe's to pick up everything we'd need. When he got home he announced that we were leaving. We had no idea where we were headed when we piled into the truck. I suggested Boston Harbor and
Burford Park. I'd heard it was nice and not a very long drive from our house. I had my flip flops on and no camera in my purse, which was insurance enough that there would be hiking and great views with no picture-taking capabilities. I didn't even have my phone.
I was right. We hiked from the park to the beach where we could see the capitol dome at the tip of the sound. The kids walked on the gravel, collected shells, and had a great time. Then came the playground where more fun was just waiting to be had.
Every calendar says that Sunday is the first day of the week. I get the whole thing about heading to church to start the week off right. I, however, see Sunday as the last day of the weekend and Monday as the first of the next seven that will make up the week. So when I say that the events of today were a wonderful way to end the week, it really did feel like the exclamation point at the end of a sentence!
April 25, 2003 was also full of wonderful events. The ceremony was beautiful. The food was delicious. The mariachi was great. The family was present. The friends were abundant. The cake was delectable. The dress was fabulous. The groom was handsome. The dance floor was packed. The love was surrounding.
Jim
Valvano said in his now-famous espy speech that there are three things we should try and do each day of our lives. One is laugh. Two is think. And three is your emotions should be moved to tears, could be by happiness or joy. And if you do, you've lived a full day. "
Do this seven days a week, and you're going to have something special."
April 25, 2003 was a full day for obvious reasons.
April 25, 2010 was too. I cried at TOP Foods after M said hi to what seemed to be a homeless man sitting in the cafe. He looked
genuinely happy to reciprocate her enthusiasm with a wave and a smile. I can imagine that many people avoid his presence and he, in turn, avoids eye contact so as to not let others witness the sadness or the shame staring out from within, and that's why when he looked at M and the piercing blue eyes behind the scruffy
demeanor smiled too, it moved me to tears. A couple of hours later I was reading an article in my Parenting Magazine about the pressures of a kindergarten mom to keep up with the classroom Jones' when it came to showing the class pet a good time on her weekend visit at their home. I laughed so hard that for the second time today I was brought to tears. And I thought. I thought about how lucky I am to have my life; thought about the little angels God has entrusted to me to care for and to love and how I don't want to fail them or Him; and thought about my husband who puts up with my many shortcomings and on most days does it without so much as a peep.
Unlike seven years ago, today's dinner can't be described as delicious. Like many marriages, the
ahi from
TJs didn't live up to the hype. We're lucky, my hubby and I, we've learned to improvise and try to make the best of what we have at our disposal. Today's task was easy: Cut up some of the kids' leftover chicken to pair with the sides, which
were delicious; pour a couple of glasses of wine; and
Wha-La, dinner was served.
I told D in that rare
anniversary card that I didn't believe there was anything we couldn't
accomplish together. God never said it would be easy, he just said it would be worth it.
For all the talk about how marriage, and especially children, age you, I think we've done pretty well. Here is a picture of us on our wedding day:
And since the aforementioned reasons prevented me from having one of us today, one taken on Monday, April 19, the first day of the seven that made up the week:
Not bad for two moves, two children, and seven years.
