April 17, 2021
My Dearest Ray,
Happy Golden Anniversary--17 years on April 17th!
As I thought about writing this anniversary ode to you, I kept hearkening back to a podcast I've been listening to about what makes a marriage last--like really last, decade over decade, year over year, day over day, minute by minute. Couples who've been married for a long time talk about what keeps their love and commitment strong--they say things like active listening, never going to bed angry, not keeping score, and finding happiness in the ordinary details that compose a life.
It struck me that this past year-where we've been both living and working together at home, raising three children, and carving out a life in the midst of a global health crisis-I've been keenly aware of how lucky I am that we chose each other.
You are my person. You are the one I go to first for everything--when I'm worried about micromanaging the details of our teenagers academic lives, when I'm fearful of how my business will fair or why the hell I can't put down the Dove chocolate at night or whether they're going to get into the right college or be able to merge properly onto the interstate.
You are the one who makes dinner every night and delights in bringing us together as a family for every meal to ask, "What was your rose today?," while you listen to the adventures that everyone's been on.
You're the one who when Kate says, "I want to start an Etsy business," helps to navigate all of the pieces from shipping, product weight, business cards, social marketing, and prospects for future entrepreneurial enterprises.
You're the one who takes Claire to every taekwondo lesson and memorizes the parts of her form. And when she's nervous about breaking a board or the size of her sparring competitor you quietly say, "You've got this. Go get em."
You're the one who takes Sam driving every morning and night. You know that I have too much anxiety to do it, and so, you are the coach and the guide and the cheerleader--even though I know you've had a few nail biting moments.
You are the one who this year said, "I'll run with you." And even though I've been the resident runner for years, you quietly surpassed my pace, but chose to stay beside me as we went up hills-because you know I lose my mojo on them and want to quit. We signed up for our first half marathon in the fall and I'm so excited to feel what it feels like to do that together.
You are the one who listens when I'm unsure about a case or feel nervous about spreading my wings and tell me that I way underestimate what I bring to the table and encourage me to show them what I've got.
And so, as I listen to these podcast interviews and I think about us--I think that the secret to 17-years is the doing--the doing of love--and in the doing comes the commitment--and in the commitment comes the safety--and in the safety comes the trust--and in the trust comes the freedom to soar--individually and collectively.
I thank you for modeling something powerful and real and evolving and beautiful for our children. They too are the luckiest, and while I tell them all of the time that they don't have to get married, but that if they do, I pray they find a partner just like you. Someone who is a doer--who lives happily in all of the details--who wants this life as much as I do.
So, as we continue forward in this beautiful marriage and family life we've created, I thank you for taking your vows seriously and for making them come to life in all of the ways that matter. Thank you for believing in me when I didn't believe in myself and for knowing that all would be well, even when it felt hard or uncertain. Thank you for choosing us and God and hope and making lunches and carpool and Learner's permits and well, all the things.
Happy Anniversary, my love--what a gift you are to me--if I thanked you daily, it would not be enough.
All my love, Kelly
