Five years. It’s amazing what can happen in that stretch of
time.
People are born. Others pass away. Some get new jobs and
graduate from school.
Still, others change careers, have children or move halfway
around the world.
Five years. It’s amazing what can happen in that stretch of time.
People are born. Others pass away. Some get new jobs and graduate from school.
Still, others change careers, have children or move halfway around the world.
I didn’t do any of those things. But the event that unfolded five years ago this month was just as fantastic. I got married.
Since my husband, Chris, and I said “I do,” our lives have changed in ways I would never have been able to foreseen.
Marriage is one of those remarkable events in life that surpasses even the greatest expectations.
Chris and I got married at St. Ignatius Church at our alma mater, the University of San Francisco, one beautiful, sunny, clear San Francisco day.
We had graduated in the same church three years earlier. But now instead of cap and gown, we were donned in bridal attire.
I still vividly remember sitting in that very church on the first day of college twelve years ago. The president of the school at the time, Fr. Lo Schiavo, asked us to look around the church, a cavernous building bedecked in golds and rich-looking woods.
“Somewhere in this great building could be your future husband or wife,” he said gently.
At the time, the thought barely brushed my consciousness. I was too busy thinking about my dorm and the classes I would be starting soon.
Little did I know that Chris, my future betrothed, was sitting between his parents a few pews over from me.
Fast-forward seven years, Chris and I are clutching hands, wide grins on our faces, scampering down the church aisle ready to embrace our future.
The first week we honeymooned on Kauai, delaying “real married life” a little longer. The next month brought a sense of newness with each wedding gift unwrapped and admired. We cooed over our crystal and dishes and enjoyed cooking and dining using all of our new things.
It’s funny how quickly that newness evaporates once the static ordinariness of everyday winds around and around.
Over the next year, we bought a home and a new puppy. We tended with the joys and, shall we say, the realities of being a homeowner. The first year, we tackled everything with muster: housebreaking our miniature dachshund, Lucy; planting a putting green for my husband the golfer; and taking on do-it-yourself home projects. We also ate out at restaurants less, took fewer trips and scratched our heads over the phenomenon we liked to call the “black hole.” Every month, money came into the household only to be whisked inside the hole, never to be seen again.
Life brought another career change for me, as I started my own business two years ago. And with each new beginning, Chris and I looked with uncertainty ahead, but moved forward headlong together, making sure our steps were in tandem.
We’ve had our share of struggles and upheavals; married couple’s quarrels and disagreements, but we have always managed to pull through. We move forward, if not seeing eye-to-eye, at least with acceptance that we won’t, and with a deeper understanding of each other.
We have been blessed with so many wonderful things: our health; loving families that continue to watch over us; thoughtful, generous friends; and a rich bounty of possessions.
Earlier this month we spent two days in Half Moon Bay at a nice resort to celebrate our five years of marriage.
The second night as we were sitting down to dinner, we saw a wedding outside about to begin. Below us, in the foggy night, moonlight shown on the radiant bride who walked up a rose-strewn path with her parents.
Their faces showed as they approached the groom, whose eyes never left his future wife’s.
A line of women stood before the window looking down at the happy procession. I brushed back a tear, remembering my own wedding day, long ago and yet as close as yesterday.
I returned to my table, where Chris was waiting for me, just as the wedding was about to begin.
“Are you OK?” he asked me.
“Yeah,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I always cry at weddings.”
Then we gazed at each other as each thought about our day five years ago and the new life that would be born in just a couple of months. We would turn from husband and wife to parents, caring for this tiny person that we had created.
If someone had told me five years ago that I would be an expectant mother today, I don’t know if I would have believed them. But now, living that reality is like a dream come true.
Five years. It’s amazing what can happen in that stretch of time.
