I’ve always thought that we picked a really great date for a wedding – 9/9/00.
Yesterday was 13 years since we said, “I do.”
We were so young and naïve and had no idea what we were getting into.
The next day we left for our honeymoon in Ocho Rios.
We went to one of the island’s national parks where tourists climb up the waterfalls and wade around in the little lagoons. They make you wear these ridiculous grippy shoes so you don’t slip.
We passed through a lagoon where you handed your camera (in our case it was waterproof and disposable) to a man who would take your picture.
(At the time we got married, I knew just one person who owned a digital camera and I’d never even heard of texting. The year 2000 really was a simpler technological time, my friends.)
Anyway, we stood in the lagoon and waited for the Rastafarian man to take our picture.
”Get down in da wata, mon,” he told us.
”Oh, I think we’ll just stand here because the water’s so cold,” I said.
He was about 6’7” with dreadlocks down to his waist and it’s possible that his biceps were the same size as my head.
”Get. Down. In. Da. Wata,” he instructed us, “NOW.”
As you can see, he didn’t have to tell us twice.
We’re still dorks.
We had a little celebration on Saturday with some good friends at a restaurant called l’entracte, where we cooked meat and veggies on a hot stone right at our table and had a delicious fondue desert. As most dinners in Europe go, it lasted nearly four hours but we were relaxed and the kids were having such a good time that we felt like we were just hanging out at home. Shawn and I are planning a little date this weekend, just the two of us.
Marriage is a lot of work.
And a good marriage is a lot of hard work.
But there’s no one with whom I’d rather work through stuff, argue and make up, press on, grieve, celebrate, challenge, laugh, raise kids, and brush my teeth next to every night.
Cheers to being young and naïve and not knowing what we were getting into.
And happy thirteen years to us.