Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Shrugging and Slowing Down: Happy Anniversary

Today is our wedding anniversary. It's not exactly the celebratory day of romance I'd imagined, but nothing is ever really how I imagined. Somehow though, that always works out for the best.

The celebration started around midnight last night when Bub woke us up throwing up in his bed. From there, I was a restless and worried mama. Pacing back and forth, fidgeting around the house, slumping into the couch, back into bed, back on the couch, waiting for the next time Bub woke up, until around 3 a.m. when I discovered that I was sick myself. Nothing at all like how I'd imagine our anniversary. So at around 7 this morning, when Bub's sweaty arm was wrapped around me in bed and Tom leaned down to give the base of my neck a quick scratch and whisper "happy anniversary" before going to work, I wasn't at all surprised. 

In fact, my wedding didn't even turn out the way I imagined it:


That's us, immediately after "I now pronounce you man and wife," at the Emergency Room, with a teeny tiny Bub and an elbow that had just been miraculously twisted back into socket. It wasn't what I imagined, but it was still full of beautiful moments. I remember sitting in a cramped hospital room with Bub wailing on my lap that was spilling over with frills and lace, the nurse asked my name and I stuttered for a second as I realized my name had just changed. Twenty minutes ago, it just happened. We had the signed paper to prove it. I had a new name. And a new life. And it was beautiful. I tentatively gave her my new name, like maybe she wouldn't believe me, and while I never imagined the first time I would introduce myself as a Mrs. would be in the Emergency Room, that is what happened, and it was beautiful.

I've learned a lot from life by its sharp turns and detours. I've learned the art of a good, powerful shoulder shrug. A shrug that so confidently says "so this isn't what I expected, but I'll take it." When we left the hospital and finally arrived at our dinner where all of our family was waiting, there was nothing else to do but smile and deliver one huge shrug. There is a beautiful art to a shrug like that:


It says, this isn't at all what I expected, but I will gladly, gladly take it. In two years of marriage I've learned a lot from that shrug, and I've learned that life will never ever stop taking sharp turns and detours. But I've also learned the important lesson of: take them slowly.

I walked down the aisle to Rilo Kiley's "I Never." I panicked a lot about my choice of this song, how nontraditional it was, how I would be the only one who "got it." Right up to the last minute I was ready to back out and throw in a CD of the Wedding March. But I knew this was the only song that could touch my soul in the ways it needed to be touched as I walked down the aisle in my last moments of being a bride.

I was so nervous about the timing and coordinating this walk down the aisle to stop perfectly at the ending of this song. But in my nervousness I took long, quick steps for a few feet until my dad tugged gently on my arm and said two words: "slow down."

And I did. And we stopped at the end of the aisle as the last beautiful measures of my song wafted away. It was perfect. And I have never forgot it. Slow down.

Life will never stop taking sharp corners. I will never stop finding myself on detours that I never knew possible. That I never planned for. I never envisioned myself laying in bed today with a rumbling stomach and a Bub that actually begged for it to be nappy time. But I have to shrug, embrace it, and slow down, because some day I will weep that these days are behind me. Vomit, detours, emergency rooms, and all. I will weep that these days are over.

Happy Anniversary, babe. Here's to the art of shrugging and slowing down. I love you.


"I Never"
Rilo Kiley

I'm only a woman of flesh and bone
And I wept much, we all do.
I thought I might die alone
But I had
Never, never, never,
Never, never, never,
Never, never, never,
Never, never met you.
So baby be good to me.
I got nothing to give you, you see
Except
Everything, everything,
Everything, everything,
All the good and the bad,
'Cause I've been bad.
I've lied, cheated, stolen and been ungrateful for what I have
And I'm afraid habits rule my waking life.
I'm scared and I'm runnin' in my sleep
For you but all the oceans, and rivers and showers
Will wash it all away and make me clean
For you
'Cause I have
Never, never, never,
Never, never, never,
Never, never, never,
Never, never, met you.

So lets take a loan out, put it down on a house
In a place we've never lived.
In a place that exists in the pages of scripts
And the songs that they sing
And all of the beautiful things
That make you weep, but don't have to make you weak

'Cause I've
Never, never, never, never,
Never, never, never, never,
Never, never, never, never,
Never, never, never, never,
Never, never, never, never,
Never, never, never, never,
Never, never, never, never
Loved somebody the way
That I loved you 

**********************************
You can support this blog by voting for me HERE
Or by purchasing my books HERE

No comments:

Post a Comment