In what I think rounds out my series on fifteen year anniversaries of the relationship with my wife; from the moment she really caught my attention, via our first date, we finally make it to our fifteenth engagement anniversary. (And, if you’re still aching for more sappiness, check out my thirteen year posts on our mooniversary, and our wedding itself!).
I don’t usually go on about the coming of our engagement, as much as some other topics. I’ve never really been sure why. I guess I tend to think of it as being much more personal and private. We were living 250 miles apart at the time, both in school, I was sickly and lonely, and spent all my free time planning this special night behind her back. I am very proud of my efforts, but it involved more deception than I am comfortable with, especially having since learned how little she likes big surprises.
So, my little reflection of recognition focuses not on the mechanics of that day, but rather on what it meant to me at the time.
It’s nearly impossible for me to think about what it was like to live alone fifteen years ago, what it was like to make important decisions without anyone else in mind, and so on. But there is one major aspect of the transition which I remember vividly.
I’m a very pensive person, and was perhaps even more so back then. I was alone much more often, and had more time on my hands. I remember staring at her engagement ring for weeks in advance while we were on the phone, knowing that I knew some things that she didn’t. And, one of those things was the fact that I was on the precipice of choosing the only relative I would ever get to choose. This gravity still resonates very deeply with me today.
Especially because I was the last to arrive into my extended birth family, I have always been acutely aware that we are born into a set of relatives completely void of choice. Even when new members are added, say, when an older sibling gets married or gives birth, there’s really nothing we have to do with it. Now that I am married, I am part of a lop-sided family which is nearly four times the size of the group that I was acquainted with from my natural family. But, even so, I didn’t choose any of them. I’m overjoyed that I get along so well with all the cousins, aunts, and uncles, and look forward to a time when I might able to get more familiar with those overseas, but, again, they landed on me as much as anything else.
But, that fiancée I was about to gain into my family, that is the one person I’ve ever chosen for myself. And, you know, even if I have children of my own someday, there may be the choice to get pregnant, but there won’t be (at least with current science) a way to truly know that little one until it leaps out and screams “Surprise!” in its own little way.
Sure, previous posts have talked about the seriousness with which I made the precursory decisions to be with her, but it really wasn’t until the night she said “Yes” that it all began for real.
Happy Anniversary, Dearest.
I hope you’d still say “yes”.