This past week my loving husband and I celebrated our eleventh wedding anniversary.  To me, this is a huge feat.  For one, he hasn't run for the hills screaming. lol.  It's no surprise to those who know me well, that I am an acquired taste like brussel sprouts or broccoli and that's putting it mildly.  I rarely color inside the lines.  I'm a bit of a control freak.  I champion the underdog, I can't stand the cowboys and I eat weird combinations of food (potato chips and cool whip YUM!)  If you asked me what I'd expect in a marriage eleven years ago, I'd say I'd expect to stay together forever and that it was going to be constantly romantic like the movies.  That we'd be exactly alike and like the same foods and same things.  After eleven years I've learned that that marriage would have been very, very boring.

George and I have been through a lot in the last eleven years.  More than some, less that others.  And, through it all we've grown together and not apart.   Due to circumstances beyond our control, we had to move away from friends and family and all that we know.  We only had each other to lean on.  Each other, and God that is.   This happened almost right after we were married.   We learned that we are stronger than we thought, that's for sure.  I credit that growing time and our time here at St. Jude's in strengthening our marriage (not that it was bad before, because it wasn't).  Thank God we don't think alike, or like all the same things.  That would be so boring.  I will sit through movies I think I'll hate and actually love (Inception), I will sit through movies I'm not a huge fan of (Star Wars).  He will sit through Funny Girl and watch Rhinestone and They Call Me Bruce.  The later two are two very bad b movies that just crack me up.

I've always said that our marriage works because when need be I bring him up in the clouds with me, and/or he'll pull me down and plant my feet firmly on the ground.  After eleven years, my husband still makes me homemade oatmeal every weekend, still surprises me with little things like cards or flowers, or pretzel m&m's from the store.  My husband knows me so well.  He knows that when I set my mind to something, I don't let go until after all options have been exhausted.  He knows when things are important to me.  He knows sometimes I have to chase parked cars, and he lets me.  I am free to be myself.  He deals with my anxiety and panic with love and support.   In turn, I know my husband.  I know how he likes to get on the computer before bed.  I know how he loves his draft day with his baseball guys that he's been in for over 20 years (HI ADAM!!!! Miss you!).   I know how he likes to wind down after a long week.  We love to tease each other and joke around.  We are big, big joke people.  We love to laugh all the time.  We say silly things, gross things, it doesn't matter.

Our children have witnessed it all.  They've seen us argue (sometimes) they've seen  laugh (all the time), they've seen us sad when family members pass.  They have inherited our goofy sense of humor.  And, they've inherited our love of God and St. Jude's.  But mostly, I am happy that they have seen our marriage as an example.  My husband is the best husband and father that I could have every imagine.  As I've said from day one, he is my guardian angel.  God sent him to me when I needed him most and I didn't know I needed him.  No, no, contrary to popular belief, he is not perfect.  I mean come on, the man eats tuna and likes mayo (EWWWW!) but in my eyes he is.  He knows what I need before I do (most of the time).  He is my rock.  He is my champion.  He is my husband.

So a mere eleven years have passed.  We have seen marriages, births, and deaths.  We have made great friends, and lost others.  We have celebrated and we have mourned.  We have lived and we have loved.  We have been us.  For better or for worse.  For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death us do part.

Until next time,
Please pray for those couples going through retro vie

Love,
Me