Happy Anniversary to Us

Dave and I have been married three years today.

We recently ordered this print to fill a hole in our salon-style art wall in the dining room (I found it while pursuing a reproduction of a British Military poster, spotted in Domino, that said "Keep Calm and Carry On," if that tells you anything.)



There was, however, some debate over the truth of the statement and the corresponding logic or wisdom in displaying it in our home. In hindsight, I think this would be the case about any couple telling themselves the truth about their relationship: being committed to one person is hard. Marriage is work. So I take the print as aspirational.

This weekend, we had the pleasure of attending a wedding in the Berkshires; the timing turned out to be terrific, because I feel that I learned a few important things just in time for this anniversary. First off, there is one place that we are definitely, indisputably, already good together: on the dance floor at weddings. I love dancing at weddings. You get such a mix of people on the floor, the music is a totally spirited yet accessible mix of motown and oldies, and in the spirit of celebration (and specifically celebrating the love of two people committing their lives to one another- in that moment before it gets hard), no one cares what they look like. At this wedding, I dare say that Dave and I were fun, we were funny, and we really tore it up.

Second, observing someone else's wedding with this much distance from my own, I realize that Dave and I made some hard choices in our ceremony, but that we were completely together in the decisions. Lila and Matt had Lila's aunt, a Rabbi, perform the ceremony; it was lovely, traditional, and personal all at once. Being the daughter of an Irish Catholic from a very large family in Ireland, I happen to have 3 uncles who are priests (and 1 who left the priesthood to marry a former nun); to keep it all in the family, Dave and I invited my uncle Frank to perform the ceremony, and despite the fact that we are not practicing catholics, Father Frank agreed. When it came down to it though, it became clear that Frank's strong faith and belief in the sacrament of marriage was at odds with our more practical, less spiritual take on things, so we switched gears and changed to a judge, inviting Frank to instead say grace (and make a toast) at the rehearsal dinner, while Father Billy said grace at the main event. Compromise is good when everyone feels satisfied.

Similarly, a family member declined our invitation to do a reading at the ceremony because he did not agree with the content; I have the utmost respect for his decision, but I am equally glad that Dave and I both chose to keep the sentiment--and the reading--and invited another family member to stand up on the altar with us. At the time, I'm not sure these felt like significant testaments to Dave and I as a couple, but in hindsight the fact that our decisions were so seamless speaks volumes about how simpatico we might actually be.

Most importantly, despite having little time to discuss our views on parenthood before our honeymoon baby came along, we have rarely disagreed about how to raise our daughters. The biggest divergence I can think of is in the use of ketchup as a condiment to inspire Clio to eat new things (she calls it "saucy" and I am for it while Dave is against.) Seriously, that's it.

So we will hang this print in the dining room where it can be aspirational, encouragement to Dave and I that we have this potential; and confirmational, a constant reminder that as a family, we have already met it.