The One

Tomorrow is going to be my 14th Wedding Anniversary. 

And the pressure is on. 

See, not only does he give really great anniversary gifts (he’s got this whole gimmick where he reinterprets the old standards. Like year one-paper, two-cotton, etc.  It’s awesome) but he also gives great cards.   He picks out really meaningful ones or finds genuinely hilarious ones and then on top of that, he writes messages in them that are perfect.  They can be long and poetic or short and effortlessly poignant. 

Whenever I try to be romantic or pithy or funny or poetic it comes across as…forced.  And not whatever I was going for.  It’s gotten to the point that that’s what I write in the card.  “This card says it better than I ever could”.  And it does.   (Insert shoulder shrug here)

When I was 15 years old I was watching Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves by myself, late one night.  All the rest of the family had gone to bed. 

The movie ended and THAT song started to play.  You know the one.  The most iconic movie love song that started the 90s.  It starts and everyone IMMEDIATELY knows it and swoons.  Seriously, I’ve never met a single person that doesn’t like that song. 

Anyway, the movie ended, the song came on…and I started crying. 

Little back story on young Katie, I was terrified of messing up my life.  Of missing whatever I was supposed to do, missing someone I was supposed to help or know or whatever.  Really and truly afraid of missing some little sign that the Lord would send my way.  And because I struggled with understanding the love of the Lord, I thought that would just be it.  I missed it, opportunity lost. 

And that movie was hitting my “I’m going to miss it” nerve.

I wanted love.  Romantic love.  I loved the idea of love.  Of passion.  Of commitment.  Of adventuring with someone and snuggling at night. 

I loved the idea of knowing someone that well.  Of wanting someone like that.  And I loved the idea of someone else wanting me, longing for just my presence.  Of wanting to do everything and nothing with me. 

I was 15; I didn’t understand real romantic love.  But I knew I wanted it.  And I was so scared I was going to mess it up somehow. 

So, that dark night in Washington as THAT song was playing, I made a request of God.  I knew it was a little silly but I still wanted it.  I was putting out the fleece so to speak. 

I wanted the man I was supposed to marry to sing that song to me.  And not just in a joking way, but really sing it to me.  And then I would know.  That would be my hint from the Lord. 

When Taylor and I met, well…ask him because I honestly don’t remember it.  Apparently I was a little dismissive and he walked away thinking certain not nice things about me.  That sort of set the stage for us. 

Either just missing each other or not making any sense how we ended together. 

Like the time he called me an Ice Queen. 

Or the time I started quizzing him on his girlfriend.  That had dumped him the day before.  Over the phone.  From another country. 

When we got together, people didn’t see it.  Friends, family, maybe even us a little bit.  We were not supposed to be the Lifetime Love Story.  We were the “yeah, she seems fun” vignette.  (Which I am. Fun.) 

We joke about it now to other people.  I’ve heard Taylor tell more than one person, including me, that we don’t make any sense on paper.  I joke that I’m his personal immersion therapy. 

And yet…

My life wouldn’t be anything close to what it is without him.

Someone asked me how I knew that I was going to marry Taylor (Because I did.  I called my mom to tell her so that it could be proven at our wedding.).

And I told her the truth; I no longer saw my life as separate from his.  When I thought of the future, he was in it.  I didn’t have to try.  I didn’t have to force him in, he was just there.  My life was no longer going to be going in a direction without him. 

There have been times that I’ve followed him and carried a lot of the load. 

There have been times when he’s followed me and carried a lot of the load.

There have been times when we angrily walked next to each other or even just stood there, waiting. 

There have been have times when we shared the burden and laughed as we traipsed. 

But he’s always there.  Just like I am. 

So, here’s the really romantic, mushy part of this essay.  The part that you might roll your eyes at and think “why did she put that out for everyone to see”.  I’ve boiled down why I love my husband of 14 years (almost) to three reasons.

Number 1 – You try.  Even when you don’t like it.  Even when you desperately want to go home.  Even when you want to be safe with chicken strips.  Even when simple is enough. Even when you’re comfortable. YOU TRY.  Big or small.  And it makes this chaotic, color splashed heart sing. 

Number 2 – You make me the best version of myself.  I know that’s not really about you but it’s true.  Everyone always thinks that I’m some ball-busting, gumption-grabbing, no-nonsense gal.  You know the truth.  And you love me for it.  You love my tender heart.  And that love has made me more me.  I’ve said that becoming a mom made me the best version of myself but that’s not really accurate.  You started that process six years before our kids showed up.  And continued after they were here.  You make me bold for myself.  Something I’ve never been.  Even our arguments and fights have helped me.  You help make me ME.

Number 3 – You make me laugh.  Whenever someone asks my favorite thing about you, I want to bust out my best Jessica Rabbit impersonation.  You make me giggle, snort, guffaw, chuckle, and laugh till I have to pee or cry.  When I am miserable, you can make me crack a smile.  Even when that pisses me off, you do it anyway. 

I love you.               

And just so you know, when I was 22 Taylor sang THAT song to me.  He didn’t know about my request to God.  I don’t think I ever told anyone because I knew it was kind of ridiculous (okay, no ‘kind of’ about it).  He sang it to me along with Bryan Adams.  He wasn’t silly or joking.  My request came back in the flashest of flashes.  I couldn’t believe it.  In fact, I had mostly forgotten about it.  And when I put my arm over my eyes out of embarrassment (and disbelief) he pulled it away, looked directly into my eyes, and kept singing. 

Happy Anniversary my love.