Life With Ladybug’s Dad: Wedding Anniversary

By Shannon Magsam, wifey

dovebells.gifMy lovely wedding ring glinted in the sunlight as we drove to church on a recent Sunday.  I lifted it up to get a closer look at its sparkle.

“Nine years ago you put this on my finger,” I said wistfully to my husband, looking over at his profile and his gentle hands on the steering wheel.

After a sudden intake of breath, and a near-swerve, he blurted, “Today’s not our anniversary! Don’t scare me like that! I thought I’d completely forgotten it.”

I giggled like a teenager and said, “I meant it was ALMOST our anniversary.”

I was already looking forward to our impending getaway.

My sister had offered to keep Ladybug over our anniversary weekend, so the huz and I had 2 ½ days of complete togetherness planned. We’d spend Friday night shaking the work week’s dust off our feet, Saturday in Eureka and then a hotel that night – if we felt like it. Maybe we’d continue driving to Missouri. Or fly to the Bahamas where we spent our honeymoon. We were going to be spontaneous. Out of control. Crazy in love.

Then the weather turned bitterly cold and KNWA started talking snow. We decided outdoor activities were going to be limited, so we’d stay at our own house for the weekend and forget the hotel and Eureka. We’d spend our dollars in NWA, we decided, going out for nice dinners, book shopping and just hanging out together.

Except since we were at home, where my laptop also lives, I kept checking my e-mail. And there were a few loads of laundry to do, too. Suddenly my Friday night of pure, unadulterated craziness was starting to look like a regular ol’ Tuesday night. So we went out and bought Chinese take-out. And rented a movie. Before long, we were in date mode. There was no whining, no requests for chicken nuggets, no hitting pause on the movie at 12-minute intervals to answer questions like “What does ‘agitated’ mean?”. The movie turned out to be really interesting, even though my husband had groaned openly when he saw the word “love” in the title I picked.

On Saturday, we slept in (bliss), then happily got ready for our day. When it started to snow, I got cranky. I prefer the beach over the ski slopes. Then we got situated in a little coffee shop where could watch the weather unfold through large glass windows — while sipping Godiva hot chocolate. That’s when I finally relaxed and looked across at my husband, admiring how his hazel eyes looked in his green sweater and marveling at how he can still make me belly laugh after all these years.

At one point I realized, with the snow falling fast, it was a far cry from the date nine years ago. On our actual wedding day, the weather in NWA was gorgeous. Windy, but sunny enough for me to be wearing a sleeveless gown with a gauzy wrap. One of my favorite pictures is of the two of us – just married – kissing outside the church with my veil waving jauntily in the wind.

It was also nothing like the Bahamas. I don’t think I need to explain. The sand. The boat drinks. The endless ocean.

I might not have been in the Bahamas, but I was still with the man to whom I had pledged my troth. And I was still abundantly happy about it.

Happy Anniversary, sweetheart. Though it’s cliché to say so, I love you more today than when I walked down that treacherous, winding staircase and the short aisle to the altar where you stood looking nervous but happy. So happy. In fact, your smile was so contagious that I grinned like an idiot the whole way down to you, my arm hooked in my father’s arm and being drawn to you like a magnet.

1 Comment

Comments are closed.