Cheesy Little Secret

Anniversary Roses

I have a cheesy little secret... I am one of the millions of people who married on Valentine's Day.  February 14, 1998 marked the day that Jorgen and I tied the knot and yesterday we celebrated our fourteenth anniversary. I don't often tell people about our anniversary, or if I do, I usually add the caveat, "It was the only available day on a three-day weekend."  He and I have always been aware of the trite and cliched feel of a Valentine's wedding, and we often tease each other about this.  Secretly, however, I believe we both think of it as a fun little fact regarding our marriage.  It is not just a cheesy anniversary date, it is deliciously tacky and we appreciate the humor it contains. Humor comprises a cornerstone of our life together, along with trust, respect, and love.

In all honesty, the date came about due to logistics more than anything else.   Being a first-year teacher, I didn't want to take days off from work for my wedding.  In addition, Jorgen and I needed to marry quickly to start the immigration process and make him a legal resident.  We had about six weeks to plan and prepare, and President's Day weekend of 1998 seemed like a good option at the time.  We decided on a Saturday afternoon wedding at my sister's house with the justice of the peace, and it wasn't until we received a call from the printer of the invitations that we realized Saturday was the 14th and not the 15th as we had believed.  Being slightly embarrassed by the instant elevation of the cheese factor, Jorgen and I discussed changing the wedding to Sunday, but quickly realized we didn't care what day we married, just as long as we made it official.  The plans went ahead as scheduled.

For being a small wedding, over fifty people attended, crowded in my sister's living room and spilling over into the kitchen.  Everyone I loved shared this special day with us, and we all had a fabulous time.  I remember a few things very clearly from that day.  Laughter primarily.  I laughed as my mother pulled me aside as I got dressed and said, "Now you don't have to marry him if you don't want to.  Just be sure you want to do this. We can always leave through the back door."  (This is the same woman who looked at the judge after he had just married her and my father and asked, "If I don't sign this certificate, am I still married?)  I laughed as my dad walked me down the aisle (the ten steps from the kitchen to the living room), cracking jokes the entire way. I laughed when Judge Prelo couldn't pronounce Jorgen's name and then completely screwed up mine as well because he got nervous.  And everyone laughed when I said a spontaneous "Whoo hoo!" after he pronounced man and wife.

I also remember an overwhelming feeling of love.  I don't know if Valentine's Day added an extra dose of affection on the part of our guests, but everyone just exuded the most positive, happy and loving feelings all day long. We had the love of friends and family supporting us and sharing our day, but more importantly, Jorgen and I made the public commitment to love one another for the rest of our lives.  The only comparable feeling of all-encompassing love I have experienced since saying "I do." to Jorgen is the birth of my three children.  If you ask him, I think his answer will be the same.

Fourteen years later, we are more in love now than ever before.  We have experienced highs and lows, and periods of intensity and ennui.  We have laughed, cried, argued and made peace. We have three beautiful children who embody the best qualities of ourselves and who makes us better people.  So even though my anniversary date couldn't possibly be any tackier, I embrace it.  I am lucky and blessed to be so well-loved and to love so well, and every year that passes, Valentine's Day seems more and more fitting as a day to celebrate our marriage.