Isn't Love Grand???

Last month, on our fifth month anniversary, we were arguing about something very stupid.  We’ve been together for six years and now when we fight, we know we’ll make up soon, so we try to push as many buttons as possible. 

I pushed some button by saying something stupid in a very high pitched, whiney voice. 

He said something similar in return, but in a calmer voice, which is so annoying. 

Then I said, “I can’t believe you’re acting like this today.  Its our anniversary.”

To which he said, “All we have are anniversaries!  Who celebrates the fifth month!”

                                                   

So I threw my keys at his back. Well, maybe his head, but I didn't aim well. 

And he threw them up the driveway. 

The point is, well, I don’t know what the point is.  We’ve been together a long time, we (like everyone) fight, and its probably a good idea not to make a deal about every month. 

We did with the sixth month though. 

 Since the official day was on Easter, and we already had super plans with family and friends, we headed out for a night on the town the night before. I wore my wedding shoes, lipstick, perfume, and carried my wedding bag.  We listened to the songs that we danced to on the ride over. We made reservations at a restaurant on Bainbridge Island, and shared a bottle of wine and an appetizer of steamed mussels. 

 

We talked about the last six months and how they flew by, yet the wedding day seemed so long ago.  We talked about how much has changed and how little has, but how that feeling of “this is different” is underneath it all. 

I had crab fettuccine and he had eggplant parmesan.  We toasted each other and the night and I got buzzed off of two glasses of white wine.  Towards the end of dinner, in my buzz that made the whole world beautiful and love so so perfect, I declared, “Let’s take the ferry over to the city and go to the church we were married in!” and because I was still buzzed, “And then let’s get Dick’s burgers after!”

As it so happened, we pulled into the line for the ferry and got right on.  Anniversary miracle. 

The lights of the city were alive and the night was cool.  I pictured us sitting on the steps in front of the church, toasting each other and our life again, tearing up over how great the day was and how much we are in love.  But, we didn’t have anymore wine and, duh, tomorrow is Easter.  The church was packed with Easter Vigil participants.  It was also very dark too because that’s how an Easter Vigil rolls at the beginning.  We snuck in the back, my heels making a familiar click sound heard six months ago, and sat down in the pew.  Two readings and two songs later, the church slowly came alive as each candle was lit.  The altar that we stood on appeared, then the stairs, and finally the jewel-like lights came on above us.  And it was like a curtain was pulled down, revealing the place where we became man and wife. 

It did fly by.  But it does seem so long ago.  Like a foggy dream that you can’t fully remember.  And, at the same time, if I closed my eyes, I could probably remember everything. 

We didn’t stay for the whole service.  Instead, we drove across town, parked at Dicks Drive-In, and ordered burgers while I wore Manolo Blahnik shoes.  That has to be a first, at least at the Edmonds location.  Sitting in the car, toasting milk shakes and buns,  we realized how we were in the midst of our newly wed chapter.  Six months in, and we are just beginning. 

It was a great night.  And, although it took an hour in line for the ferry back home, I didn’t really care.  We know how to anniversary.  We know now when to celebrate.