The "Aluminum" Anniversary

Today is our 10th wedding anniversary. We have been together 11 years, and known each other a little over 12 years. When I looked up traditional anniversary gifts by years, #10 is "tin or aluminum". Huh. Wonder what, back in the day, was a nice something you would give someone made with tin or aluminum? A new lantern? A pie pan? Nowadays, what comes to mind is a soda can - not the height of romance or even remotely suggestive of permanence. Most people think "recycling" when they hear the word "aluminum", don't they?

Anyway, times change. I'm proud we've made it to 10. Not everyone does. My parents divorced when I was about 4, and my mother never remarried, so I didn't have any real idea of functional marriage. My grandparents, sure, but by the time you're old enough to notice your grandparents interacting with each other, they are WAY past arguing about who's going to put out the trash. My dad remarried, but I didn't live with them. In growing up, more of my friends had divorced parents than intact families. So in some ways, I think a lot of people my age are making this up as they go along, with varying degrees of success but a real desire to not be another statistic.

I was not one of those girls who dreamed about their wedding day and in fact I found the whole planning process pretty exhausting. We had a wonderful wedding, full of friends and family, with a really fun reception in a Mardi Gras theme. We didn't spend all that much money, because we didn't have much money. Afterwards, I told Sean if there was any reason to stay married, it was the thought that I might have to go through another wedding in my life. I much prefer the marriage part.

Now we have two little boys as testament of this shared life. Sean and I were not always certain we would have children. One of the most compelling reasons for me was a desire to allow our shared life to continue on, in some fashion. This was sort of a vague notion until the death of a dear friend clarified the wish into something more compelling. She and her husband had shared a wonderful life together, with more adventures than you could imagine, but they had never wanted children. Her sudden death from a stroke made me ache for her husband, that he could have had someone to remember with him, and later, to remember for him. I truly doubt he feels this way, but I knew that I would.

And so, ten years, four cities, and two kids later, here we are. I love you, Sean. I'm proud of you and the person you are. Thank you for loving me and giving me these two beautiful boys. You have been a wonderful person to take along on this life's adventure.