Those baby blues. That attitude.
My future husband, my lover, my BE-ONE…and oh yes, he looks just like James Taylor.
What’s not to like?
Most of our family and friends know the story of how we met. Truncated version: Terry as best friend of my then fiancé convinces said fiancé to dump me and the rest is history. While it certainly was God’s plan for us to be married, it might not have been exactly His way of getting us together.
Over these past years we have celebrated June 17th in various ways. Our first anniversary we did the ‘eat the frozen wedding cake top’ thing in our little square cinder block married student housing house. Living on love in the midst of typical newlywed poverty those first years proved to produce a firm foundation to our new union; along with three children!
Our tenth anniversary we threw a huge backyard party celebrating the fact that we had made it together that long. Sadly, many we knew who married the same year as we did, were no longer together. This was also the year in which we followed the dream and took a leap of faith in starting our own business.
Our twentieth was celebrated atop Flagstaff Mountain in Boulder where we were married; a rustic catered affair for select close friends and family under a primitive outdoor pavilion. We toodled around town for weeks proudly displaying the makeshift sign our guests attached to the rear of our van announcing to the world:
Our twenty-fifth was special in that my parents celebrated their fiftieth that same year. Something about those numbers intrigues me still, but it’s the feeling of connection that makes me smile in remembrance of that one.
2010’s thirty-second anniversary was spent exploring our sojourners environs while in rural Indiana. Still feeling hopeful that our between-homes journey had our original goals intact, we roamed roads laced with romantic adventure.
Closing in on our thirty-fourth, I wasn’t sure we’d make it. Not because of any ‘thirty-four year itch’ or suddenly waking up to discover our love for each other had flown out the window overnight. Instead it was because of the love and dedication we had for each other that threatened to end our marriage. We almost lost ‘us’ trying to save each other from the hardship of those last months surviving in our hotel room home in Arizona.
Our time between-homes stretched much longer than either of us thought possible.
That’s where James Taylor came back in on the scene for me.
You are my only one, you are my only one. Well I’m telling you now, you’re my only one. Faint whispers of this tune started up in my mind. You are my only one, you are my only one. Don’t be leaving me now, you’re my only one. Can you hear this, too, my love?
Hundreds of hopes in the past, nevertheless it was never the last.
Hold on strong or you fade out fast…
You are my only one, you are my only one. Don’t be leaving me now, you’re my only one.
June 17th, 2014. Today. Now. Two years coming up on the ‘new’ job; sojourners still, living on love in our little rental home. Thirty-six years filled with ‘Technicolor Kisses’* and ‘Passion Scars.’
And I still believe in we.*
*from: Because We Can by Bon Jovi