Our 21st anniversary is coming up next week. I was four months pregnant when we were married by a justice of the peace at the home of friends. The bump under my dress was hinting at it during our wedding. We needed to marry sooner than we did, but it would have been terrible to 'jump' Craig's brother's wedding.
They had been engaged properly with a lovely wedding planned. Their wedding was beautiful and warm. Big family affair on both sides. The bride in white was pale pink, while I was green; not with jealously, but morning sickness.
About five years before, I had chosen an abortion to end an unplanned pregnancy. This time around, I really loved and cared for the father and knew he would take good care of us. The first time I didn't have a conscience or a constitution. This time, I would not have considered it, although telling our parents and friends was hard. I never wanted Craig to feel trapped or manipulated, didn't want to lose my best friend.
A marriage has stages. The first years were hard. We had one set back after another for years and years. I don't really know how he had the fortitude and wherewithal to keep loving me. High maintenance is putting it mild. If you ask him, he just says, "I decided to, that's all". He has always told the girls and me that we are his dreams come true. He is so convincing, we believe him.
As our anniversary comes around, I looked back through this last year of blogging. He is high on the list of things I write about. I describe him, give him tribute, explain, laugh, ruminate, ponder and share him with words.
He hasn't always been top on my list. One of my worst fears is that I would be unfaithful to him - I can be fickle when I'm not being bipolar. I have admired other men more than him more than once. I have found other things more important and more interesting by default once in a while.
Honesty has kept the intimacy of our deep friendship. He has never been offended when I've come to him with my fears, shame, troubles or secrets. We have never had secrets from each other. Ever. He is safe for me to be real, so I never have to be anything else. That's a comfort. Trust keeps growing as respect gets heaped on the pile of love.
Yesterday, Hugh Mcleod tweeted "The Dot and the Line" a romance about lower mathematics.
If you clicked the link, you heard our life story better than I could tell it. I consider myself a fortunate woman. Twenty one years fortunate. Hot- tears- melting- my- face- thankful. It could have all turned out so different at every crossroad on the journey.
Thank you line.