And I'm Happier Than the Year Before

Next week is our anniversary--20 years.  Yesterday when mentioning it to some people, someone asked what we were doing to celebrate.  "On the actual day?" I asked.  "Of course," came the answer.  "Well on the actual day we will be in a basketball gym and then in a parent, student, counselor meeting where we will receive Boss' PSAT scores.  We'll probably all go out afterwards."  "All of you? Children too?" came the incredulous response, "But it's your anniversary.  And why do you have to go to those other things on your anniversary?"  Here's the answer...

Twenty years ago when we chose our wedding date my soon to be mother-in-law told me that getting married at Christmas time meant that you'll never really get your anniversary to yourself.  (And that was before we knew I'd be a priest!)  Sitting here today, I realize how right she was, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  Since the conversation yesterday, and as I remember the total horror of the person who couldn't seem to understand why I wasn't bothered by our commitments next Wednesday, I've been thinking about the last 20 years and here are some reasons why I love our anniversary...

We had a wonderful wedding surrounded by our family and friends.  I still remember the day, all the people there, and the relationships that have continued for these twenty years.  The bridesmaids and groomsmen who are now are children's godparents, our family and friends who have walked with us through life's ups and downs, and the promises we made to each other.  I remember turning to face the congregation and being introduced as "Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Robert Doyle" (as unpolitically correct as it is, I loved and love being Mrs. Chris Doyle), and thinking, "I don't think I will ever be this happy again."  How wrong I was...

On our first anniversary we found out I was pregnant with our first child.  We were shocked and overwhelmed with excitement--we'd been told I couldn't have children.  (Thinking that doctor's medical school credentials may need to be looked into as within five years we had four children...just sayin') We spent that night at the Atlanta airport because we were flying out the next day to visit Chris' parents.  He had ordered a fabulous meal complete with champagne--that I couldn't drink.  Even without the champagne, I was happier than the year before...

A year later, our second anniversary, said surprise, amazing child was in our home.  My parents said they'd babysit so we could go out for a nice dinner.  Half way through dinner the maitre d' came to our table because we had a phone call.  (Yep--long before the days of cell phones)  It was Mama, "You've got to come home; she's been screaming for over an hour and won't take a bottle."  And so we happily had our dinner boxed up, and we went home to our screaming little,miraculous bundle of joy.  I was happier than the year before...

We have spent four of our anniversaries in the hospital with children who were hospitalized--one in the ICU.  Each of these times Chris would bring in carry out and a bottle of wine and we would celebrate our anniversary while we watched the oxygen monitors.  On our fifth anniversary, Chris walked into my hospital room where I had been for over a week, to see an amnio needle protruding from my very pregnant with our third child belly.  Happy Anniversary...I was happier than the year before...(Chris claims that might be because of all the demerol I was taking and had been taking since Nov. 1)

On our tenth anniversary we agreed not to exchange gifts; we had just finished Chris' MBA and were rebuilding our savings.  That morning as four children (ages 3,4,5 and 7) climbed all over us squealing with delight over the Christmas parties they were going to have at school and the parade we would be going to that night, Chris handed me, through the mass of arms and legs, a box with a diamond anniversary band.  I handed him nothing--I AM A RULE FOLLOWER!!  That may not sound remarkably romantic, but as he kissed my head and each of our children's heads my heart nearly burst. Moment over--I quickly put it on and rushed downstairs to begin the breakfast brigade.  Covered in flour and sticky hands, I was happier than the year before...

Our eleventh anniversary was spent with me driving to Lynchburg, through a blizzard, with the girls to join Chris and the boys.  We were moving (yep that's right on Dec. 18--if that's not crazy enough you should know I was also hosting Christmas for my parents).  Chris had gone ahead with the boys to meet the truck while I waited in Pittsburgh for Sarah Katherine to finish her last Nutcracker performance.   I finally arrived to find a house full of boxes (in the wrong rooms--Chris gained a whole new appreciation for my neurotic color coding that day), and off the whole family went to Appleby's to celebrate our anniversary. I was happier than the year before (and eternally grateful that the girls and I hadn't plummeted to a fiery death weaving through the mountains of Virginia with near zero visibility)...

We have spent anniversaries in basketball gyms, at strings concerts, at the Nutcracker, and in many other places because that is what our life has been for 20 years--building a family and a home.  Do we still find time for ourselves?  Definitely; it is crucial.  And we always find time to celebrate our anniversary at some point, but does it have to be on the actual day?  Each hospital bed I sat by, Chris sat by too.  Each concert I attended; Chris attended too.  Each basketball game I watched, Chris watched too.  This is the life we have built together, the life I love.  I suspect the next 20 years we will celebrate differently, and the 20 years after that differently too.  But for now, next Wednesday when I sit next to Chris in the gym and then in the meeting with our children,  it will be exactly where I want to be and exactly the celebration I want; we will be celebrating both our love and the love of our family; the family we've built together--the Chris Doyle family. And I'm happier than 20 years before...