It's actually been 21 years if we're counting the dating years. (Yes, we got married the same day we started dating, all aligned!)
On this 15th anniversary - and even more so as I creep along into my 40s - I find myself appreciating the journey of life thus far. More specifically, I'm enthralled with the collection of individual seasons that brought my wife and me to this point - 21 years together.
The overwhelming thought that threads through all of those different seasons for me is that I've been so incredibly lucky and fortunate to have had someone to share this life on earth with. At this stage in life, we've each been together for more than half of our existence which is another odd understanding to come to grips with. Over that time, we've each been different versions of ourselves, and have lived through various versions of our marriage.
In this moment of gratitude and reflection on a big round anniversary (it's the crystal anniversary, they say...whatever), a part of me is also aghast and thankful that within this current society filled with gendered culture wars, rising divorce rates, and increased distractions and self-aggrandizing addictions that can turn anyone away from others with interests, influences, and idols, my wife and I still find ourselves here...married, and together.
I'm lucky as well.
Yeah, you are!
That is not lost on me. I have childhood friends who are still single. I hear the horror stories from colleagues and work acquaintances on the dating scene. I've been to the weddings of many who now find themselves divorced.
I even sometimes think about all of the girls I had crushes on, or I once liked, or yes, that I lost sleep over - because you know in those times, that naivete led me with - mannnnnn, this chic is amazing!
But again, even in running through those thoughts, I come back to the very point...
I'm so lucky.
I also ponder heavily about my dad and his words on this day. My parents were childhood sweethearts with a love story that would shock even Cupid himself. My father always struggled with emotions and communicating through them. Yet, like so many of the rugged, super dads we all know, he always found a way to say or do the subtlest thing to convey himself most essentially.
On my wedding day, he came to my hotel room to see me. I remember him approaching me and pretending to fix my tie, basically him wanting to help in any capacity. And in his thick Caribbean accent, he said: "choosin the right woman is the biggest decision you go eva make. I think you got it right on the first shot."
My life has been a collection of decisions. A lot has worked out. Many were awful. Some were by happenstance. Yet, the woman that lies in my bed every night, the woman that mothers my children, and woman that I still look at as my tag-team partner in this called life is the only decision that has mattered, and will matter.
He was right. It is the most important decision I ever made.
I got it right.
And finally, I think heavily about a phrase that my wife has used to describe our relationship for a long time: "Craziness is like heaven". I'm not sure if she ripped the line from Jimi Hendrix, who has a similar memorable quote, or wherever she pulled it from (or thinks it's from), but the phrase has always stayed with me.
This shit has been crazy.
From two college hopefuls trying to make a life, careers, and dreams in New York City, to being parents and homeowners, and so much else in between...
You have to forget about what other people say, when you're supposed to die, or when you're supposed to be loving. You have to forget about all these things. You have to go on and be crazy. Craziness is like heaven.
― Jimi Hendrix
15 years of marriage, and 21 total. Wow.
Craziness, it's like heaven.
And I'm so lucky I got it right.
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To my wife, who occasionally reads this tiny piece of the internet - I still love you.