It has been six years since I married the boy of my dreams. I remember so clearly, ironing his shirt before we left for the small ceremony, a light blue denim to match his eyes and my baby blue summer linen dress. I carried flowers that Deborah gave me and even though I didn't like them, I put a bunch of roses from our back yard in among them and they were beautiful. I didn't plan a wedding. I couldn't. The move alone created enough anxiety.
Now, a Portlander and a wife, I am content in my home on Clinton Street, still fascinated with life in this odd little town of a city.
Last night we drove to Seaside and stayed in the motel we usually stay in on our anniversary. We clammed this morning, drove home, cleaned them, ate fried clams for dinner and shared six moonstruck truffles for desert.
Happy Anniversary to us.
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6 comments:
I stumbled on your blog. This post made me sigh (in a happy way). I hope to have a six year anniversary with a boy of my dreams someday.
-Justine
Happy Anniversary to you, Indeed! You're really doing it.
Happy years ahead. It's so good to read posts of those who blog because they're happy rather than angry/sad/depleted/frustrated... etc. Congrats!
After six comes seven, then eight, then before you know it....thirty-two (and a half, actually!)
Marriage is hard work and fun work and rewarding work and just plain lovely.
Keep on going, girl (and guy).
thank you all.
Letters: You will. I'm old and glad I waited.
L: always.
Nina: Great to hear from you. I wonder what you would have done with my clams for dinner.
Pambo: Thanks and welcome to this silly blog. Read the archives when I found more time to write.
Congratulations to you guys! I can't believe it's been six years. You were still a newlywed and a newcomer to Portland when I started reading!!
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