Twenty-two years ago today I married your Dad (you're welcome) and it occurs to me that there are some things you need to understand: Before we were the four of us, we were the two of us and we had lots of fun and amazing adventures. Don't get me wrong, having the two of you girls is the most fun and amazing adventure we will ever know, but just in case you ever wondered why I always seem to take his side when you disagree, it's because I'm on his side. Sure, we girls know that he can be a dumb guy sometimes who just doesn't get things, but he's my dumb guy and he's your dumb guy and none of us could have hoped for better. Some day, sooner than I could have imagined, you'll both be gone and your Dad and I will be just the two of us again. Hopefully at that point, like me, and thanks to your Dad, you can look back on your lives with happiness, look toward the future with hopefulness and, if you want it, have a dumb guy by your side who helps to make the whole ride one big fun and amazing adventure. I would do this again and I would do this again and I would do this again.
Love,
Mom
That's where my facebook status today ends, where I would never put anything negative for people who know us to see. Here's just a bit more truth: Being married isn't always easy. As a matter of fact during our first year of marriage Dave made me so mad that I would have left him if it wouldn't have been too humiliating to not last even a year. Of course he's made me mad many times since, as I'm sure I've made him mad; that happens in a marriage. But here's the silver lining: You can get past anger and hurt and pettiness, and if you make the commitment to stay together, you're left with a relationship that has weathered bad times, stronger for it. We once knew a couple who got divorced: He was forty and decided he had never been happy in his marriage and left his wife for a 24 year old, had his vasectomy reversed, and started a new family. I remembered one time being over there for dinner, when he was still with his first wife, and they told a story about being dirt poor when they were first together, living in a crappy apartment, when they found a pathetic little ratty kitten. They named it Charlie and had her for fifteen years. After they were divorced, I thought of that kitten and the bond and time that it represented in their lives and that's what he will never have with the new wife: The years of being poor and struggling and overcoming the challenges of youth, together; those challenges are the forge that temper the steel of relationships.
Recently, my inlaws had their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Along with my sister-in-law, I spent months planning the details of their party. As we were leaving the house to drive to London, I was struggling with the last of the supplies I had to carry out to the car, and I heard from inside the house Dave yelling, "Are these Diet Cokes for us? Oh, I guess I'll get them," all angry and sarcastic. I could have killed him. When we got to the gas station and the girls got out to grab some Timmy's for the road, Dave said, "You're quiet. What's wrong?" I said, "Just trying not to stab you in the eye with a fork." Then in my best mocking voice, "Oh, I guess I'll get them." Not my finest moment, but it let off steam. He got out to get gas and I decided to let it go. The party was amazing; everyone, especially the inlaws, had a wonderful time and when we got home, Dave gave me a huge hug, apologised for being cranky in the morning and thanked me profusely for the amount of work I had done. The two most important lessons from this story: When Dave asked what was wrong, I actually told him. And when he had time to think about it, Dave apologised. Neither of these would have happened when we were first married and I would not want to start over again to get another relationship to this point.
And so my daughters, I do hope that you find yourselves in happy relationships one day; not that I think it takes a man to make a woman's life complete, but a helpmate can make the burdens lighter. I also hope that you can commit to actually staying together; to not let boredom or fights about money or vague dissatisfaction be reasons to break up your marriage, like so many. I promise that the little fights, in the end, don't add up to something bigger. If, however, you find child porn on his laptop, or he joins a Neo-Nazi Party, or he strikes you, even once, feel free to leave the bum and come right back home to me, to us. You will both, always, be the greatest achievements of your Dad's and my big adventure.
