Today is my wedding anniversary. I have been married for thirty-one years. How things have changed and how things have stayed the same in thirty-one years. When I think back to the twenty-two year old I was on my wedding day, my first thought is how did anyone let such a child get married. In our wedding photos my husband and I look like we are about twelve years old and playing dress up. Fortunately, we knew what we were doing, we knew we were in love and were committed to each other for the long haul.
Most people looking back on a thirty-plus year marriage might recall the bumps in the road, but our road has been pretty smooth. To what do I attribute this good fortune? Are we just lucky? I doubt luck has much to do with it. We took our wedding vows seriously on this day thirty-one years ago. Till death do us part, for rich or poor, in good times and in bad, sickness and health, and take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. We meant it all then and we mean it all now – that is our secret.
Sure, I want to smother him with my pillow when his snoring wakes me at 4:00 a.m. and I’m sure my housekeeping (or lack of) makes him want to strangle me, but we are both disciplined enough to not follow through with our homicidal thoughts. I know the good will continue to trump the bad. I know it now and I knew it thirty-one years ago. I was certainly wise for a girl of twenty-two.
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