Today is our anniversary. Actually, it’s our anniversaries. Plural. We’ve been
and also are celebrating this wedding anniversary
How can this be?
After 37 years apart, we remarried in 2009. On the same date, at the same time as we married in 1972. 3:00 p.m. Eastern time.
No, we didn’t reconnect through Facebook, the internet or a class reunion. It just happened the old fashioned way.
Listen. There were days after he left in 1980 when I would have given anything to have him back. Pity party was me. I wallowed in it.
And then, there were days years later when I was so glad that we had divorced. When I celebrated my freedom to have a career, move to California and live a life I’d never even dreamed of. I was, after all, a small-city girl who found herself thrust into married life before she could even have a dream. I had mine on the fly.
And then: this. The phone rang. He said a bunch words that included “I made a mistake 30 years ago” and “I want to remarry you.” I stared in disbelief at the receiver in my hand.
It took me some time to process this new situation. I didn’t just jump on it. I was engaged, for God’s sake, to someone else. Someone I loved.
All the details, well, they’re pretty personal and then again, there’s the memoir I’m working on. But here’s the bottom line:
I’d forgiven M a long time before. It took me much longer to forgive myself. Because really, it takes two to make a marriage work and two to make it fail. Once I owned my part, I could move forward.
I wouldn’t have given up those 27 years in between for anything and certainly not for our marriage the way it was the first time. I’m happy that I had that time for myself and experienced other wonderful relationships. No regrets.
And then, one day, love found its way home. As it always will.
I let it in, and the rest is history.
My history. Our history.
It’s a good story. But an even better life.
Happy anniversary, sugar. Thanks for making every day of my life so amazing. ♥
|I really was a happy bride, but you can’t tell it from this photo. Those are my mother’s parents, my beloved Papa and Mama. And this is the only surviving official photo from our first wedding, I’m sorry to say. Who knew we’d want them again? Moral of the story: Be sure to smile in every photo. You never know when they might be relevant again.