Ten years ago today I married Andy in the pouring rain.
As a teenager I would imagine my adult self. She would dive into a series of passionate relationships, having her heart broken easily and often. It would be ok because she felt alive and ready for everything that feeling alive involved. She would feverishly make art and travel the world after college and maybe never settle into one place.
I didn’t imagine that, at 19, I would fall in love with the boy I’d had a crush on since I was 11. And that would be it. Just the one passionate relationship. No broken hearts. We were a meteoric collision where two things awaken and strengthen simply by being together. I was stunned to know love like this existed. Love that made me feel the most alive, the most certain, the most vulnerable.
We went to a concert last night. Our babysitter arrived at 6 when I was in the shower, Andy was vacuuming up tumbleweeds of pet hair and the kids were laying in the driveway with stuffed animals. We weren’t ready for her. Or, actually, we were so ready for her. We were tired. We drank espresso, kissed our kids and left.
I didn’t know Todd Snider‘s music very well. But Andy knows me and booked tickets long ago. We paid a little extra to have seats at a table which we proudly noticed makes us in the “older” bracket of concert goers. I remember a time when the cheapest ticket was the ticket we always booked, when we happily stood for hours smushed in the front beer-splashing quadrant of show. Well, I guess we still do that at Pearl Jam but this show felt more like my favorite poetry reading in a friend’s living room.
Elizabeth Cook opened and the beauty of her voice and her words brought tears to my eyes three times in 45 minutes. She told stories that gripped the room and I thought about that power people have when they are doing their thing – the real thing they are meant to do – and the universe shivers with joy.
I leaned into Andy’s side, his two hands clamshelled around my right hand. He has held my hand that way for almost 19 years. I studied it last night. His hands have aged but they hold the same delicate shape, like a prayer around mine.
Elizabeth Cook sang out about trying to be in a room without taking it on and I sat motionless at the relevancy of everything she spoke. She wrote:
But I do tend to fuse things, confuse things, sometimes with sparks, sometimes like a lava melt, sometimes backed by a tank of compressed air ready to blow, sometimes quiet as a slow leak.
Todd Snider came on stage and continued the singing poetry slam, inspiring the room with his humor and voice and word choice. The difference with this concert and others I’ve been to was the attention. People were so tuned into the frequency set by the performers. We leaned in, listened and learned.
Snider’s words hung in the air.
A little out of place, a little out of tune
Sorta lost in space, racin’ the moon
Climbin’ the walls of this hurricane
Still overall I guess I cant complain
We vowed things to each other 10 years ago. We promised to try, to support, to challenge, to love, to tell the truth. We are doing it. I am proud of us. Last night, we listened to our soundtrack. Making out, messing up, faith, practice, terror, wonder, growth, ache, intention, opening. Trying to do things for all the right reasons.
14 Comments
East Nashville !!!!
Such beautiful appreciation!
and may the journey go on
You made my universe “shiver with joy” again this morning. Your writing is just wonderful and your life with Andy and the girls is exceptional! I always look forward to your posts – thanks!
This brought tears of joy to my eyes Burb….
Love this, “I leaned into Andy’s side, his two hands clamshelled around my right hand. He has held my hand that way for almost 19 years
xoxo
ahh the 10th anniversary is special. The one where you look back and think about how far you have come and how life has changed.
Make each anniversary special because although it is a day of the week to everyone else, to you and the one you love it was the special day you joined your lives. Always remember that while children are a gift from God, you chose your spouse. You have to continue to choose that person above all others. Children grow and make their own lives, as they should, but it goes back to you and the person you chose.
I lost my husband of 33 years recently. Married at 19, so in love, made beautiful children and built a life that was better than I ever dreamed. I would give anything to have a 34th anniversary.
Oh Shelley,
I read your words intently, really hearing to your advice. And then your last two sentences knocked the wind out of me. It is true that we never know…we all get this and yet it is easy to lose sight of it. I promise you I will make each anniversary special (even when it’s hard to pull anything off!). I promise you I will remember I chose my spouse and I will continue to choose him.
Wishing you peace and support in this difficult time.
With love,
Nici
Oh, Shelley, I am so truly sorry. I met my husband when we were 7 years old, first grade. We looked at each other and knew, “It’s you.”. Life, in the harried, scattered, ins-and-outs of days, can dim that lovely knowing. I read your heartbreaking post and immediately reached over and touched his hand. We looked at each other…it’s still him. Thank you for reminding us to hold our love close. We might not know each other, you and I, but you will be in my thoughts.
your last paragraph was a truth arrow in my heart. is that not marriage or is that not marriage? i could never have spoken it as sharply. i am renewed. thank you.
Happy anniversary to you both! So much of your story resonates, I fell in love at 18 with my husband, he was the one with the crush at 11. I had plans that involved marrying later, if at all, no kids before 30, and a lot of travel. Instead, I got him, and the boys came before thirty and the travel has been shared which has made it all the sweeter. Here’s to your next ten, and the ten after.
“…and the universe shivers with joy.” Oh! I loved that line. I might even illustrate them a little later today in my journal.
Your entire post read like a poem and I could feel the love you have for your husband, as well as for your place in this world alongside him. Happy 10th anniversary, Nici. It’s comforting to know there’s a great love simmering underneath the roof of your house all the way in Missoula, Montana and it fills me with hope. xo
All of these words are so beautiful.
One word, BEAUTIFUL !
“Like a prayer around mine” in reference to how Andy has always held your hand,took my breath away.
Best wishes,
Clare,Xx.