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Feb 14

Fourteen Years

Fourteen years of marriage is different than I thought it would be.

It’s waking up early too early, worrying about kids, and money and jobs.  It’s turning on the coffee pot that he got ready the night before and checking the heat to make sure it didn’t drop too much overnight.  It’s a king size bed with a sleeping child snuggled up against him.  It’s folding laundry while the shower warms up, and wishing your sleepy husband a happy Valentine’s Day/anniversary in one breath, and asking him to get rid of the dead mouse in the trap in the kitchen with the next.

It’s coffee while the kids are sleeping, wondering when we’ll be able to fit in that date night we’ve been promising ourselves for three months.

It’s calling him when you’re frustrated and hurt, needing him to talk you into doing what you know you need to do.

It’s coordinating kid pick up and kid drop off, trading responsibilities according to who has the most flexibility at that moment.

It’s watching him play minecraft for hours, because your little boy sharing something he loves is worth more than anything.

It’s roundtrips across Worcester, twice, and ending up bringing him home anyway, because sometimes playdates are hard.

It’s listening to your five year old sob and yell her way thru an exhaustion temper tantrum with you, while your husband is chilling out in the next room, and not hating him for it, because you know he needs it.

It’s planning a bat mitzvah.

It’s knowing that your van has snow tires and his doesn’t.

Fourteen years is missing some of the romance, I guess.  It’s less about proving to each other how much we care, and more about living our lives together.  It’s about still arguing over communication, the fights you start off having are the ones that you continue, but it’s also about knowing that nothing is really going to change, and that’s okay.  It’s knowing that you have a partner.  That your world works because there’s two of you.  It’s knowing that he’s seen you at your worst, and still thinks you’re beautiful.   It’s knowing that he sees you in his children and loves them a little more because of it.  It’s seeing him in your children and loving them a little more because of it.

It’s dreams of the future, and goals that are being met.  It’s the every day struggle of trying to make everything work, and dirty dishes, and can-you-think-of-anything-different-for-dinner-that-the-kids-will-eat.  It’s Shabbat dinner with everyone talking over each other, and dishes, always dishes.  It’s overflowing bookcases, and baby dolls all over the couch.  Legos on the floor, audio books in the car, and too many dollhouses to count.  It’s unmatched socks, it’s lost cups of coffee that he finds and brings to you before they get too cold.

Fourteen years isn’t about flowers and chocolates, it’s about steadfastness and constancy, and laughter.  It’s about deciding that what’s best for both of you, and doing that.  It’s about wearing his shirt to bed, and him clearing off your car before you leave for the day.  It’s so much more than romance, it’s so much more than you thought it would be.  It’s forever.  It’s a family and a life and a world that you always dreamed of having – one that simply wouldn’t have existed without him.

Happy anniversary, Marc.  I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you, and am grateful every day for the world we’ve created together.

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