I remember the inebriated super late limo driver. I remember being carted from one salon to another. I remember the flock of cameras that was so stressful I was glad I have never been a movie star or graced the cover of a tabloid. I remember waiting in the narthex of the church for the music that would signal my walk down the aisle. I remember looking forward and seeing Christian's face. I remember trying to stop my crying when Larry, the officiating pastor, said things that made the whole situation real. I remember the microphone not working for Danielle's reading. I remember the "Gift of Love" hymn going way too long. I remember forgetting to grab my bouquet from Marie and just walking down the aisle hand in hand with Christian anyway.
I remember my godfather threatening Christian. I remember Katy Perry playing in the limo ride over to the polo club. I remember deciding to ignore the pomp and circumstance of a "grand entrance." I remember freaking out because we hadn't included the photographers in the guest numbers, and I still feel bad about that (even though they screwed up my wedding video...but I'm not bitter...really...). I remember the toasts. I remember dancing with my dad and dancing with Christian (and people later wondering if we'd taken lessons, which we hadn't). I remember people having fun - and telling us they hadn't had so much fun at a wedding reception ever. I remember my mother gripping my arms so tight that I thought she'd never let me leave...
Those are the things I remember about the ceremony and reception. But of course, they aren't the things that we talked about this past Monday when we actually celebrated our anniversary (we wanted to celebrate when Christian wasn't bone tired coming home from work).
We got paninis, Martinelli's, and a bag of kettle chips and went to the park at the northwestern tip of Alameda. It was overcast (because the Bay is at this time of year) and incredibly windy. It wasn't exactly how I pictured our beach picnic in my head, but then again, the place was still beautiful. Christian popped open the Martinelli's, we ate our sandwiches, and we reminisced.
First he asked me, "What's the worst and best thing about being married to me?" I laughed because this is a pitfall of a question. Still...
Me: You ask me stupid questions like that - that's the worst. [He really does ask questions like that all the time, even though I'm sure he doesn't want honest answers to them.] The best is the fun.
We have fun all the time. ALL the time. This is one of the reasons I chose to marry Christian. Life is too short to be serious and miserable. When life is difficult, it is better to find the things to laugh about - to find the pieces of joy.
Me: What about you?
Him: Well, the worst isn't really the worst. It's kind of both. I have to be responsible. You make me responsible. And I like and want that, but I also hate it.
I don't feel that bad about that one. It's not really something that is even personal. I think any functional marriage would require that...and so it doesn't bug me at all.
Him: The best is going around with you - adventuring.
It's one of the things we've made sure to do as much as possible, though since being pregnant it has definitely been reduced to almost nothing. Still, we used to go on an adventure every weekend. We would discover new things all the time. For us this meant a whole lot of day trips, which is really all we could afford through most of our married life. However, we have gone on 3 overnight trips just as a couple since being married (besides our very short honeymoon). And that leads me to the other thing we discussed.
We started thinking about stories - the stories we've lived through in the past five years - those we like to tell and those we like to remember. There are so many stories we like to tell, but for me, it isn't stories I like to remember - it's moments. In particular there are moments in time that I replay in my head over and over again. These are usually tied to a particular expression that crosses Christian's face when he looks at me - it's a quiet smile, one that only I see. It's filled with sheer happiness and profound love, and the only time it's been on display for other people was probably on August 8, 2008.
By this point we were pretty cold and our food was all eaten. It was time to go home. But even though we were done with our designated remembering, the thoughts have been swimming around my head ever since. It was a nice reminder that despite all the ups and downs of the past five years (and there have been many) our relationship is strong. Neither one of us would choose another. And while many aspects of our life are unstable at the moment, which seems like a bad time to bring a baby into the mix, our relationship - our marriage - is ironclad. For me, that is the most important thing.
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