Ode to 20-Years of Marriage

 

April 17, 2024

My Dearest Ray,

We did it!  Here we stand holding two decades of marriage.

So much life has transpired in these years together.  So much goodness...so much hard...so much beautiful...and so much sorrow.

We woke up this morning and after getting the girls to school, went on a long walk.  Traipsing through our local college campus, we shared how crazy it was that five-hours away on another college campus, our oldest was walking by people who could be his parents' age.

How did we get here?  How are we inches away from 50?  How do we have a college freshman, a junior in high school and a 7th-grader?  How do we own a business and have life insurance?  And how have we graduated to a space where we schedule annual skin checks, colonoscopies, mammograms, and get labs drawn for hormone imbalance?

In so many ways, life has shifted and in so many ways, it has not.  You're still you.  Steady. Kind. Funny. Super smart.  Incredibly available, and always loving.  And in other ways, you're not.  You're less defensive, slower to anger, quicker to say I'm sorry, and more willing to extend compassion than in our early years.

Every morning, you still do 100 push-ups, pray on your knees, head to the gym, listen to the bible while unloading the dishwasher and making Claire's lunch, volunteer for activities at the school, and text regularly throughout the day.  You're the first to share your NY Times game scores in the family chat, the first to remind me of a cool concert or play we should take the kids to, and the first to read me an article in the paper or to tell me about a new trend that is bonkers.

You're also the first to support my doubts and imposter syndrome fears and the only one I want to get to when I feel out of my depth.  You are my biggest cheerleader, my fiercest champion, and the one who reminds me that I can climb the next hill and that I'm doing a damn good job.  You are insanely loyal and know that a strong cup of Bialetti coupled with mounds of sushi and infinite milk chocolate is the portal to my heart.  You never make me feel badly when I fall asleep by 10pm and when I wake up replaying the same anxieties that I went to sleep sharing.  

And when it comes to being the father of our children--there are really no words.  You are their person.  Between movies, music, driving, board and video games, concerts, baking, sewing, drawing, designing, and loving unconditionally--you are the person they want to spend their time with, always.

I've had pictures of Italy on my vision board since college--a dream of drinking espresso, sipping wine, hiking, riding trains, experiencing art, writing in cafes, indulging in gelato, and falling in love all over again in canals--and it looks like (through your persistence and hope) that my dream will come true this fall.  I can't wait to celebrate our love in another country honoring how far we've come--because one day, 20-years ago, we said, I do to all of it.  We couldn't have known then, and we can't know now all that God has in store, but I pray that through all of it, that we will endure in the joy and the pain together.  I can't imagine any of it without you.

I love you...I love you more...I love you most...You do?...I do.

Love, Kelly