Nine years ago today, 50 friends and family members gathered at the Clarion House Bed & Breakfast to witness my fourth march down the aisle. Yes, I said fourth. Quattro, vier, tetra. I’m not quite Zsa Zsa or Liz, but I’m one up on Jennifer Lopez.
Given my track record, I’m sure there were bets flying in the room over how long this one would last, but despite the odds and my propensity to run away from emotionally difficult situations, Larry and I will raise a toast tonight in honor of our nine married years.
Larry joined my life in the middle of me raising two daughters. I came into our relationship kicking and screaming, unsure why God had us meet at a time when I was so out of sync. I wrote a column the week after we were married. Here’s an excerpt:
“(In November 1996)…my friend, Larry, was having coffee when I walked into the downtown coffee shop. We hadn’t seen each other in two years. When he saw me he looked like he found something he lost. He left his friends and hugged me, and through a kind of osmosis, his joy permeated my skittish heart.
“Although I run the risk of branding Larry as ‘sensitive,’ here’s what our two-year pilgrimage to the great ‘aha!’ (our wedding day) was like: When I told him to go away, he said he’d see me soon. When I told him we were through, he’d say wait 24 hours and then decide. When I cried and thought I’d never stop, he held me and told me he’d never let me go.
“Even after I told him all the crap and yuck that I created or lived through in my life, he told me that his loving me had nothing to do with my past.”
I wish everyone a Larry-like love in their life. Our life together, while far from perfect, is comfortable and a haven.
It’s like the REO Speedwagon song said, “When I said that I love you I meant that I love you forever.”
And I’m gonna keep on lovin’ you, Larry. Happy anniversary to us!