Thirty-Two Years-An Anniversary Story

I went camping for a weekend 32 years ago and found love for a lifetime. The anniversary year is not so much of a milestone as a testimony to love, compromise and the effort it takes to stay together. In love from the start, when all things are new and possible and easy, to the slow march of relationship time. When the blush is off the rose, the real work begins. There were roses, but also frustrations and doubts and debates and disagreements and reconciliations. For better or for worse. The “for better” is easy, it’s the ability to come back from the “for worse” that has carried us this far.

Love It, Hate It

I have a theory that the thing that attracts you to a person in the first place will be the thing that eventually drives you crazy. At around year five or six the cracks start to show. There’s a good reason why the average marriage in America lasts eight years. The key to making it over the hump is remembering that your partner’s character trait, the one that is now making you nuts, is the exact reason you fell in love in the first place.

Dam The Details

Diane’s carefree spirit was a much needed breath of spontaneous fresh air that swept into my life. Her disregard for details has made me crazy over the years. Feeding the kids dessert, but neglecting to feed them dinner or forgetting that a five-year old needs a booster seat in the car are two of the moments that spring to mind.

Conversely, Diane could make a long list of the ways my attention to detail frustrates her. My need to have a plan. Always. Or the practical wisdom I feel compelled to impart on whatever idea she has hatched for travel, home remodel, transportation, family celebration, etc.

Seems Like a Good Idea

Thankfully, rather than letting the cracks grow into chasms, we’ve both made the effort to move towards the other, rather than away. I have learned not every occasion needs my practical advice. It’s ok to let Diane carry on with a plan that may or may not work. As long as bodily harm is not a factor, I’ll keep my mouth shut. She does not need the cold water of my sensible opinion tossed on the flames of her current fancy. I’ve learned that more often than not, her crazy ideas work out in the best possible way. Those whims became adventures and celebrations that have made for a wonderful life.

As for my practicality, Diane is happy to not think about budget, school registration, doctors visits, taxes, groceries or laundry or the long list of mundane things that fall under my half of the equation.

Once, Diane turned to me in frustration and said, “Just because you’re right doesn't mean you always need to say so.” Such a simple concept. One that had been left out of my DNA completely, but I one I took to heart from that point on.

Zero to Warp Speed

The first easy years fly by and soon you have a mortgage, a dog, careers and maybe, eventually, kids. The treadmill of life grinds on, faster by the year and sometimes days go by without having had an actual conversation. Life becomes a series of agenda items. “Can you pick Jack up from school?” “I have to take Evan for a physical. When is baseball practice?” “Does Ryan have basketball this week?” “The dog is throwing up!” “We’re out of milk.” And on and on.

Occasionally, perhaps on Valentine's Day or your anniversary you remember to leave a card by the coffee pot. Or that one song comes on and you smile and remember that time, long ago. And perhaps you even call or text to say, “Remember that song?”

Do I Know You?

And at some point, the treadmill starts to slow, ever so slightly. Kids get their license, graduate, go to college and the chaos diminishes a bit. You’re able to sit on the couch and watch a movie, uninterrupted. You scoot over so you can lean into each other like you used to do. If you’re lucky, you remember why you fell in love all those years ago. You discover the person that has been hidden behind the veil of your crazy life and hopefully your partner does the same.

Ah, There You Are

The other day, Diane and I were laughing about something, I mean really, really laughing and I looked at her and said, “I remember you” and she knew exactly what I meant.

“I remember you, too,” she replied. And that is 32 years.

Regina Stoops is an award winning storyteller, comedian, writer, producer, MS Warrior and Autism Mom living with her wife and three kids in the San Francisco Bay Area.

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