We are celebrating six years of marriage in Berlin today! While we’re experiencing the city with Grace and Jack, I am increasingly convinced, as I look over at Guion, that there isn’t anyone else I’d rather have with me during our European summer—and during the whole of my life, however long it may be.
This passage from Woolf’s diary expresses so much of what I feel about the daily work and magic of marriage:
Arnold Bennett says that the horror of marriage lies in its ‘dailiness.’ All acuteness of a relationship is rubbed away by this. The truth is more like this: life — say 4 days out of 7 — becomes automatic; but on the 5th day a bead of sensation (between husband and wife) forms which is all the fuller and more sensitive because of the automatic customary unconscious days on either side. That is to say the year is marked by moments of great intensity. Hardy’s ‘moments of vision.’ How can a relationship endure for any length of time except under these conditions?
— Virginia Woolf, autumn 1926 (A Writer’s Diary)
As all of the days pile up, I am inexpressibly grateful to be accumulating them with Guion.
Today, I happily celebrate four years of marriage to Guion. Every year with him just keeps getting better and better! Soon, we’re just going to reach this weird, silent, blissful nirvana in which we have no need for language. OK, not really. Marriage is hard. But there’s no one else I’d rather be yoked with; I can’t even imagine a better partner.
And now, some infrequently seen photos from our wedding day, taken by the incomparably great Meredith Perdue. Click on a thumbnail to flip through the gallery.
We spent the Memorial Day weekend trekking to the great Midwest for my grandfather’s memorial service. While the circumstances were sad, we had a wonderful time with Dad’s side of the family, remembering Papa John.
On our last day in Indianapolis, we stood around his new headstone and talked about what we remembered. Remember that time he landed a helicopter in a tiny patch of grass in front of a Hilton, or in Aunt Shelly and Uncle Sean’s backyard, to the amazement of all the neighbors? Remember how he used to evaluate a car, running his hands along the sides, as if it were a racehorse? Remember how calm he was, how he never yelled at us?
The weekend was blazing hot, but we managed to distract ourselves with multiple games of deck tennis and lots of unhealthy food.
We don’t get to see this side of the family very much, so this was a cherished weekend. How nice it was to be reminded of where you came from, the qualities and predispositions that you bear, silently and mysteriously inherited.
We came home the morning before our second anniversary. To celebrate, we went to Ten for dinner. I’ve been waiting for two years now to go to Ten, and it did not disappoint (even though it made me miss Japan and my host mom’s cooking more than ever). We sat across from each other and smiled, marveling at how quickly time has passed. Wasn’t it just yesterday that we were dragging luggage into a hotel, still decked out in our wedding garb?
And now we are happy to be back to our new home, reunited with Pyrrha and our sprawling garden and out-of-control lawn. I am looking forward to doing nothing in particular all summer.
Guion and I are headed to the beach tomorrow for a full WEEK. We’ll be celebrating our one-year anniversary (!) at the Tillman family condo in Morehead City and I am beside myself with excitement. Not bringing my laptop, will probably not look at my phone: It’s just me, my super-adorable husband, and Proust on the shore.
Have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend. Talk with you again in June, if I come back…