To Michael on Our 7 Year Anniversary

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We stood under pine trees and spoke our vows seven years ago today. Do you remember how I whispered mine? I may have been voiceless, but my heart shouted.

Can you see us, posing for pictures among grapevines and sipping and toasting Sweet Oklahoma Red?

You were that brainy Kenyan, and I was that idealistic journalist. We didn’t know how much bravery and humility marriage takes.

I remember how Aunt Eunice wrapped us in matching Kangas and the reception that never really ended. Not until 4 a.m. and how my brother stayed to clean up after those crazy Kenyans.

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Do you remember when I asked you to marry me? You insist you asked first, but you have to remember how I blurted it out one night, desperate to know the answer.

Thanks for saying yes, and for saying yes every day since.

I still remember the day we met.

Your confidence filled the room during that first interview. Where would we be if I had not needed a second interview? Would our brown-eyed boys have ever been born?

Do you remember the morning I watched your eyes widen to see that pink plus sign?

“You’re going to be a dad,” I said.

You cooked me eggs when I couldn’t keep anything else down.

When the day came, you made me proud the way you raced to the hospital, breaking every speed limit.

I know what you’re going to say. You never got that birthday steak I promised. I gave you a son instead.

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Let’s not forget to tell our kids about San Diego, holding hands at Central Park and how I could barely walk back to the car after biking at Hefner Lake.

We can tell them about the Blue Atlas Cedar you slaved over and my indecisiveness. I have never seen a man dig three holes so happily.

Happiness drips out of you, and I’m thankful you’ve spilled so much happiness into my life.

Do you remember the communion we shared the night before we took our vows? Just bread and juice—made holy by our honest prayer. I remember your presence as we sat waiting, seeking and committing our lives into the hands of the Almighty.

How brave we were.

That’s how we need to live this married life—like the way we prayed that night all spread across my living room with splayed hearts and open minds.

Let’s live like those elements. Simple bread and juice—poured out by Love Himself. Let’s empty our lives—our love—for one another. Then we can enjoy the kind of thankful, Eucharistic life we were meant for.

We don’t know what God holds for our lives, but let’s always choose joy. Let’s always hope.

Here’s to hoping my life never has a moment without you.

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13 thoughts on “To Michael on Our 7 Year Anniversary

    • Thanks Fran. I enjoyed your blog too. I hope to come to writer’s group soon. I want to catch up with you and see how everything is going with your life/ministry and ABH. Blessings, friend!

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