Fourteen years of marriage is usually celebrated quietly
between couples. It warrants a mention from friends, maybe a call from close
family members.
“How many years has it
been? 14? Next year’s a big one, huh?”
That’s usually how the conversation
goes. It doesn’t bother me. I’ve always felt anniversaries were meant for the
couples themselves, with a few exceptions of course. A first year or major
milestones like 25 years, 40, 50, etc… can
certainly justify a party or at least a small family gathering. But for me,
each year brings it’s own unique perspective on all the years that came before.
And let’s face it, as magical and wonderful as it can be, it can also be challenging.
And I believe that making it work year after year deserves whatever acknowledgement
each couple sees fit each time it rolls around.
For some reason that I can’t explain, this anniversary feels more worthy of reflection than others. Maybe our 25th anniversary will
breeze by with little significance other than the accumulation of
years. Or year 32 will overwhelm me with sentiment and nostalgia for
the many years behind us. But this one feels more momentous, more significant, more worthy of mention.
Inspired to think back on past anniversary celebrations, I started to write them all down, chronicling each year with details of where we were and how we lived our lives at the time. And as I wrote I began to understand something that I never had before. Looking back can only be viewed through the glasses we wear today, the lenses aged and worn. The details muted and blurred over time. But the wear and tear gives us a much deeper, rich and layered perspective of the life we've created than we could ever see in each given moment.
So I started over. And now, the story goes a little something like this.
We spent our first year as a married couple lonely in the Lone Star State. We
roamed the land for a decent cup of Dunks, regulah of course, and overindulged in Krispy
Kreme’s. It was a confusing mix of exciting days and homesick nights. The year was 2001. The bubble burst, the towers fell and somehow, almost 1 year to the day of arriving, we made our way back to New England. Before leaving we celebrated our first anniversary with a
memorable dinner filled with mystery (what was
that appetizer pretending to be? calamari?) and adventure (no frantic pregnant
woman should be in charge of looking for the nearest emergency room for her
food poisoned husband in an unfamiliar city. NOTE: See mystery
calamari.) It was clearly time to go.
Back in New England, we filled the early years of our marriage with lots of firsts; first baby, first steps, first words, first parenting mishaps. The
adventures were endless. While Jeff traveled the world growing his new business;
Australia, Paris, London… I explored the world of motherhood; playgroups, volunteering, speed diapering... I mastered the art of perfectly timing naps with Starbucks drive through expeditions.
They were busy days, much of them now a blur. I remember business and babies and
that’s about it. Our youthful spirit, passionate pursuits and lots of caffeine propelled us
forward.
As we negotiated the rocky shoreline of parenthood we tried
to find time to escape to calmer waters. For year 5 we rewarded ourselves with a trip to Puerto Rico. Just the two of us. There was golf, spa, pool, beach, cocktails
and days of catching up on collective years of lost sleep. Years later we flew
half way around the world to the land down under. As we walked the streets of
Sydney we fantasized about bringing the kids some day and spending our winters in the friendly, sunny city. We shared prosciutto pizza at
Hugo’s on Manly beach. We discovered the lively Daimon Brunton Quartet at The
Basement Jazz Club. We walked the Bondi trail and
I even tried to surf.
The years between the big sabbaticals were sprinkled
with mini getaways up and down the Northeast from Maine to Manhattan. And if we
got really clever, we’d finagle a winter boondoggle to warmer climates. Miami
(#NoMoreConch), San Francisco, Napa… No
matter how hard it was to coordinate kid coverage, these trips have always
given us the time to recharge, refresh and reconnect. They are like little energy
pills that give us the boost we need to keep this crazy train moving
forward.
There have been a lot of moments over the past 14 years; too
many to remember them all. Replaying them in my mind is like re-watching a
movie that you saw when you were a kid. At the time, you didn't quite catch all of the subtle, adult humored jokes or innuendo. Too sophisticated for your kid brain to get. You enjoyed it though. You knew there was something hidden, some deeper meaning. Even though you didn't know what it was, you were satisfied just knowing that it was there.
Each passing year brings a deeper understanding of the plot. Connections missed the first time around are slowly revealed, illuminating the big picture. And future years bring comfort, knowing that while you may not recognize significant moments as they happen, one day you'll be able to look back and see a beautiful, multicolored, intricately woven tapestry of all the years past.
Happy Anniversary to my
best friend, my inspiration, my rock, my love.
Jen and Jeff Hoffman
September 23, 2000
