People make so many jokes about marriage and how terrible it is. Typically, the "how many years of wedded bliss" question elicits the initial response of laughter, because though it's been, say, eight years of marriage, only two were bliss-filled. Not for me, people.
Has absolutely every second been perfect? No. Does he annoy me? Sure, sometimes. But, honestly, I'm in one of those marriages (are they as rare as I think they are?) where all of the jokes that people made to us before we got married still don't make sense eight years in. Maybe we're doing it wrong.
Oh, the jokes in the days leading up to the wedding were plentiful alright. "Enjoy these last happy days now, because they'll be a distant memory soon enough." "You still like each other now; don't worry -- that will change." Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Hardy, har-har.
So... are we just doing it wrong?? Because I still like him. Like, a lot. Like, a lot a lot. And, it gets worse: we're still happy. Like really happy.
Years ago a friend of mine was engaged to be married. Three weeks before the wedding, she found out that her fiancé was sleeping with (or had slept with at least once) his ex-girlfriend. I was already married when this bombshell hit and, sensing that she was going to marry him anyway, I tried to counsel her out of it. I told her that marriage isn't just about loving someone; it's kind of like a business. A life business. And the person you marry is your business partner, so you have to trust them with every facet of your life so they don't rip you off and leave you high and dry. I told her that marriage is hard and you can love someone all you want, but it's still going to be hard. Love is just the first prerequisite. It is a partnership that, over the long-term, requires so much more than just love. I absolutely did (and do) believe that a partnership based on trust is paramount, but I was lying when I said it was hard. I only said that because that's what everyone else has told me my whole life. I just assumed, though, that we hadn't been married long enough and that we hadn't faced enough challenges. I figured that, though I knew I chose my life partner well, we hadn't been put through the ringer yet.
Maybe that's still coming, because eight years later, "hard" is not a word I would use to describe my marriage. And, while (thankfully) we haven't had some of those significant stressors that experts say can wear on a marriage (major loss, illness, financial difficulties, etc.), we have made it through some pretty intense life changes together.
I was reading an article recently that talked about how much kids change and challenge the relationship that a married couple has. It's true: it changes because you have so much less time together alone. The marriage is no longer the focus and, especially in those first few months when you're busy trying to figure out how to "life" and your tired and broken (for mom, especially) body shifts into survival mode, the marriage can be a footnote (though, there is nothing quite like watching the person you love more than anything hold and love the other, tiny, person you love more than anything). But we have two kids, and though (as kids tend to be) they can be a source of stress, that has never felt that it comes at the expense of our marriage. He has started travelling a lot for work, which, with my tendency towards anxiety and my sometimes nagging self-doubt, has been a change I have struggled with some. I miss him terribly when he's gone, but -- in a weird way -- that has actually just been another reminder of how much I love him. There is something romantic about counting the days until he's back and the exchange of sweet (and sometimes not so sweet, if you catch my drift) texts. Missing someone feels nice too. We've also weathered a rough family storm together right before we got married, and that could easily have been something that caused a rift between us. But, in none of those times did I feel like we had to work to cocoon our relationship. If anything, it sort of felt like a safe haven in the midst of chaos.
So, will it get hard later? Maybe. Maybe, when we lose parents; if we lose jobs; if we face bad health news; when we're experiencing trouble with our kids in those oh-so-wonderful teenage years. Maybe, but I just don't know. I don't think so. Maybe we just chose right in marrying each other.
When I had that conversation with that friend (who married him anyway, by the way), she told me that marriage is a gamble anyway, because you can't predict the future, so everyone who gets married knows that divorce is a possibility. I agreed. You can't predict the future. You can't predict someone's behaviour and (as I've only just learned in the last few years, sometimes, you can't predict your own behaviour years into the future -- but that's another blog post), but, as Mark Hoppus, from the band +44 sings, "the past is only the future with the lights on." So, yes, like her, I suppose I did gamble that day when I vowed to give myself to Jeff for forever and cried as he made those same pledges to me, but the gamble wasn't done blindly. The bet I made was calculated. I did my research first and things looked good for a win. I was pretty happy with my odds. I believed that he had never lied to me; that he was committed; that he loved me; that he would be a pretty good and present father. I knew that he was honest and hard working and sincere, and he's the kind of person I would want to go into business with. I would want to buy a house, share a bank account, make babies with. And, so far at least, I was right.
We came to Saskatoon, the city where we first met, to celebrate our anniversary. One of the things we did today was head to The Broadway Roastery on 8th Street -- the coffee shop Jeff took me to for our first date. It was a good four-hour date and I remember dreading it coming to an end. We decided to follow it up with supper. Still not wanting it to end, we picked up a movie from Blockbuster (say what????!) and went back to his house. I got back to my hotel room at 4:00 a.m. and we shared our first kiss -- the last first kiss I'd ever have again. And then we never looked back.
So, here we are eight years, one apartment, one house, two cats, a few job changes, a handful of trips, and two beautiful, perfect little boys later -- still in love. Still in like. Feeling as blessed as ever.
I asked him today over our Broadway coffees what he thinks of eight years of marriage and he said, "I think it's good. We should do it again." I agreed. We decided to revisit this whole marriage thing in eight years and see where we're at, but for now, thank you, Jeff, for choosing me and for loving me, and our boys, exactly right. I love you and here's to the next eight years of wedded bliss.
