On Our 13th Anniversary, I Got Balloons

There is so much we can say about marriage, and people who are not married – "life partners" and whatnot – will never know the deepness that comes with the whole idea.

We try, for sure. But we can’t seem to stay monogamous long enough, or we don’t want to, and so we brush over the whole institution with vague references to antiquatedness and a person’s inability to stay interested in someone long enough to like them forever.

Couples get bored. Sex gets boring, habits get old, and instead of taking it in as part of the journey, we quit and move on to something more exciting.

And to those who do manage to stick it out we ask for the secret, as if there is some magic formula to not quitting.

I could go all into the “13 years ago, we stood before” and blah blah blah. The truth is that we don’t talk to many of the people who said, “we do” when the pastor asked who would support us in our promises, and they probably said it with good intentions but also because it was the thing to do in the moment.

There are good memories, certainly, and we sometimes look back and laugh at what we thought we knew.

Marriage is a funny thing, right? A man and a woman, so very different in thought and habits and snoring patterns, say words about sticking it out through thick and thin, with no idea what’s really in the future.

It’s kind of crazy, actually.

Promises we make are only true when we live them out – when we’re really mad or tired or at the end.

Who is going to clean up the kids’ vomit in the dead of night?

How will we pay that bill?

Can I find safety in you when I feel defeated/ugly/lost?

Is there a part of your brain that doesn’t know how to put your shoes away? Because I’m pretty sure you missed that stage of development.

Will you still love me when I throw the empty toilet paper roll at your feet because I revert to juvenile ways when it comes to bathroom cleanliness and courtesy?

Some couples take vacations alone and are really good at planning date nights and romantic weekends.

This is not true for our loud house.

But he does the dishes and takes the car in for gas (because she always leaves it on empty) and fills 13 balloons with all the reasons he loves her. She buys his favorite beer and makes sure he has enough antacids to get through her attempts at cooking.

And on this most sacred day, they will not jet off to a deserted island. Instead, they will gather their three louds and go out for a sausage McMuffin. They will look at their phones while they try to drown out the noise of the playplace, and in the midst of life itself, they will continue to try to live out those promises they made.

Of course, she’ll be silently judging him for eating hash browns.

Ah, love.