Today makes 5 years since we went on our first date. It was a very brisk Monday evening and the restaurant/bar was too nice for a first date. We met outside, promptly at 6:00 p.m.. I had a few books in my hand since the library was only 2 blocks south of the bar. He immediately pointed out that he had ripped yet another pants on his work chair.
We entered the pretty swanky bar , chosen by him because of its equidistant to both our offices.
One drink turned into two,and then dinner. I believe we left the place around 10:00 p.m.. A pretty long first date. A pretty expensive first date.
We discussed everything from jobs, careers, aspirations, failed marriages and engagements. We walked to the train together, got on the same train and chatted some more. He got off at his stop, not without giving me a kiss first and we exchanged pleasantries about meeting up within the week.
We return to that bar every year on or about our anniversary. This year we will delay the outing until after test day.
5 years! In that time we’ve gone on multiple trips, several international adventures, gala’s, museums, shows and endless weddings. Each weekend for the first few years was a new adventure from beach parties to fancy black tie affairs…we had finally found someone to share our zest for life with.
A little less than 2 years later we got engaged. Soon after we moved into a small 1 bedroom apartment together- that had its own share of stress and coping mechanisms. We planned an out-of-this world multi-day wedding and had 200 people celebrate with us each day.
We were fearless.
We went on an amazing honeymoon in Asia, back ended with yet another wedding. Life was blissful, except for our living situation. That winter we promised ourselves we would not be in that same apartment next winter. While we loved each other dearly, we were both in our early 30’s and needed our own space. It’s no fun trying to intently play Call of Duty while you’re wife experiments with a new recipe 4 feet from you, banging pots and doing the dishes every few minutes.
That Spring we started the house hunt. Because I’m a NYC local and my husband is originally from Western New York, the price tags on the homes caused some friction between us. Of course half-a-million dollars for a home was reasonable, actually we needed to spend a bit more than that to get something more than just the structure of the house. That sum of money would get us a mansion in his part of town. He had every right to be perturbed by the price tags of the homes, I looked in Western NY and found a castle for sale for the same amount of money as a starter home in the NYC/Westchester area.
About 80 homes later and several extensive excel sheets we found our home later that year. We did end up spending another winter in that apartment, but the contracts were signed and we were projected to close in February and move in March!
We had maneuvered thru many first year of marriage issues, some caused by growing pains, others caused by personality differences, the fact that we didn’t grow up together in this relationship, but were 2 individuals merging and adopting to each other, yet remaining individuals.
None of this has prepped us for this past year of marriage. And yet with every struggle we have grown together, become closer- learning about each other’s triggers, coping mechanism- knowing when to step-up so the other can fall apart. This journey has been taxing, but learning how to cope and talk and deal has brought us closer.
Here’s to the past 5 years. If those years weren’t spent making such incredible memories, I don’t think the present would be as comforting as it is.
Today I reflect on the notion of making time. Many of us get swept up by the day-to-day and rarely find time to make time. The reality is, making time should be the norm not the exception. I consciously try to “make time” for all the things outside of my scheduled norm. Making the time to keep in touch with family and friends, making time to do those daunting chores and annoying work task. Making time seems to be the key to not feeling stressed or overwhelmed. Planning out when and how to tackle obligations actually makes me feel renewed and responsible.
Writing has been my form of “therapy” since I discovered the power of words in my 10th Grade English class. Something about putting words to paper allows the stress and angst of the day to shed itself effortlessly. In college I wrote papers upon papers (being an English Education Major), took breaks from my papers to do my own writings and then returned to my research papers with vigor and focus. My academic writing improved as my personal writing vault grew- the reinforcement of tone and attitude permeated thru my written works as I honed myself on paper.