Nine years ago I was doing shots of vodka in the backroom of a church waiting to marry a boy that I used to sneak out to see in high school. Our one year old was not doing shots of vodka however he was playing with the pearls I wore around my neck. My nerves were outrageous. At 26, getting married was a pretty big deal to me. None of my friends were married. ZERO. Most of my friends were single and I think only 2 of my friends had kids.
When we had Catcher my dad made me go see a priest (the good Catholic in him couldn't handle the wedlock sitch). I went to his old church in Collinwood and told the priest our story. How we had known each other since we were kids, how we dated briefly in high school, how I became his roommate, and how we eventually became parents to the best boy ever. I told him how my dad wanted me to get married immediately and how neither of us were ready. We had only been dating a few months when we found out we were expecting and I definitely didn't want to rush into something neither of us were 100% sure of. He told me the church no longer believed in forcing people to get married if they were pregnant. I rushed home to tell my dad that I was in the all clear as long as God was concerned. Was in the all clear with him?
My dad relaxed and understood. He had in fact been in a similar situation with me as a baby however the church and family looked down upon him and the only thing he could do was get married. It ended badly. Well besides having me of course. I told the Chef about my meeting with the priest and we both agreed that marriage would come when we were ready for it. I wanted to get married because we were in love, not because we had a baby together. We went on raising our newborn son together as a couple and it wasn't until about a year later when the Chef proposed. We were at his chef from Kitchenn 22's wedding in Boca. The boy came with us, he was only 14 months and we couldn't imagine leaving him. We planned a short tip after the wedding to the Keys to visit our friend Kellie. Turns out our entire trip was all a ruse. The Chef had planned to ask for my hand in marriage.
With a magnum of 1990 Pol Roger on a beach in Key West, the Chef asked me to marry him. Elated and nervous I spit out the only words I could think of.
"Of course you dummy."
That was 10 years ago. Today we are celebrating our 9th wedding anniversary and I can tell you this. We have had a serious adventure. We have fallen in love countless times. We have cried and yelled and hugged and traveled and laughed and stood side by side in some of the most daunting situations of our lives. We have been through a silent hell and back over the last half of our marriage that would have split anyone down the middle. But we stood strong. That love we promised each other on that beach 10 years ago prevailed and got stronger as each day passed. And guess what? Here's the crazy thing about a great marriage, IT ONLY GETS BETTER. Our marriage is way better than it was year 1, year 2, year 3, and so on. Coming from a divorced household, I never thought marriage was supposed to get better, I always thought it just stayed the same or got worse. Not true at all in our case! 9 years in and I can't wait for more.
Happy Anniversary Chef Sawyer, thanks for being the macaroni to my cheese.