Married Life (So Far)
Enjoying the last two slices of our white chocolate buttercream wedding cake from Voila Pastry and Cafe, and Coolhaus’ Churro Dough Chocolate Chip ice cream
Per tradition, you’re expected to save a part of your wedding cake and eat it on your first anniversary. As a certified food manager and once-broke college student, I don’t recommend eating anything that’s been in your freezer for a year but that’s neither here nor there. Not wanting to draw the ire of the wedding gods, we ate the last two slices of our White Chocolate Buttercream cake on Sunday, June 10. And you know what, it was moist and delectable-without a hint of freezer burn. I still won’t touch those sketchy crab cakes sitting in our freezer door but I can’t think Chef Mimi (of Voila Pastry and Cafe) enough for making our beautiful cake that literally stood the test of time.
Speaking of time, “Aren’t you looking forward to me harassing you for the next 40 years?”-that’s my favorite joke to my husband. Which in retrospect, isn’t the best selling point when reminding someone that they are legally bound to you for LIFE. Over 365 days ago, I married my best friend and we are happily celebrating our first wedding anniversary. Twelve-maybe thirteen-years ago he asked for my notes during accounting class. I gave him a polite “I think the fuck not” and he has never let me forget it. In the days since and in between, I have learned many things about myself and what it means to truly love someone else.
My love language is trying not to steal the covers from my husband at night. I show love by giving him the last bit of pasta, watching an entire football game (all four quarters!) and letting him pick what can only be described are the worst movies on Netflix. His love language is listening to me vent, and then asking “Now what are you going to do about it?” His ‘I love you’s’ are checking the oil in my car and reminding me to take my melatonin before bed.
Love is in the details. Love is not only a verb, it is a habit. Love is what you do when you are tired, when you’ve been on a plane for nine hours or when you haven’t eaten all day. Love is packing extra lotion because one of you always leaves it at home. Love is convincing someone to take a promotion even when they are nervous because you know they will blossom under pressure. Love is continually wanting the best for someone, not as a destination or a goal, but in all days and all ways.
I sincerely thank my husband for one year of friendship and growth, and look forward to the next 39 years of making us late to dinner, pushing the trash down rather than take it out and vacuuming up loose change knowing damn well I should just bend over and pick it up.
