Anniversaries are funny things. To the people they belong
to, they are chock-full of feeling, memories, and emotions, so much so that
they have to keep a tight hold on them and use little words and shallow clichés
to talk about them. The people who observed the original day with its owners
may notice it’s coming again with a smile, a card, or some kind words: actions
that are sweet, heartfelt, and most definitely appreciated. And to other
people, the day is nothing but a date on this year’s calendar. They go about
their routine- or maybe break from it- with no extraordinary wonders bursting
out of the day. Nothing about it reminds them of an earth-shattering,
mind-blowing, life-changing event.
But oh, how incredibly, incredibly sweet the 2nd
of June was this year! The love I thought was so beautiful when I answered
“yes” to a nervous question on a starry, snowy March night grew and grew through
a year of impatient waiting and hoping and dreaming, and then it was realized
in a promise on this same day- a day of joy and laughter and the happiest of
tears- just one year ago. And I thought that
was its brightest moment. I couldn’t imagine a love that was fuller than that.
But now, another long year has gone by- this one of
impatient questioning and rejoicing and learning- and I am amazed at how that
love has bloomed. I laugh when I think that I said “yes” to the anxious
question on that March night two years ago, without the awareness of this
blessing. I shake my head when I think that I said, “I will” on that happiest
day one year ago, not knowing how much better it could and would become. And
when I think about this dear day next year, and the years and years after that,
my eyes fill with tears. Tears of an emotion I can’t name, because I’m
imagining something I don’t know yet: the beauty that this love will have
become then.
