Today is my 8th anniversary. 8 years ago today, it didn't rain and we were sealed in the Los Angeles Temple. It was one of those perfect days.
In a burst of honesty, I will tell you that for years I have been uncomfortable with how young I was when I got married. When I was married, I had been 19 for 35 days. At the time, I thought barely 19 was old enough to make a big decision like forever. Sure, maybe it was. Maybe I did know what I was doing. Maybe I was old enough to receive a spiritual confirmation regarding such a lasting decision. I don't know why, but I still feel like at that age, I beat some odds at what I was allowed to do.
My 8 years, like most 8 year marriages, has brought things I couldn't have predicted at 19. But I don't think that marriage is supposed to be predictable. You are supposed to have times where you couldn't be more satisfied with your life. And you are supposed to have times when you find marriage a nuisance.
Our 8 years has brought both predicable and unpredictable. It has brought 3 healthy, funny, sweet children. What an accomplishment! Not only are they healthy, funny and sweet, but they are alive and well! We have kept 3 human beings alive! Like they are our pets!
8 years has brought 6 different moves. 3 apartments full of great memories, but not spare square footage. 1 town home that I awarded with the worst paint job ever. 2 Utah houses with yards and neighborhoods for bike rides.
8 years has brought the same car the whole time. Yes, I still have Little Red. And she is humming right along.
8 years has brought fat days and skinny days. And pregnancy stretch marks. And stupid broken feet.
8 years has also brought late night laughs in bed, ice cream pints in front of the TV, tooth-and-nail fights, better sex, understanding and respect, deeper love and closer friendship.
Darling husband, dearest friend, Happy Anniversary.