The weekend for us started on Friday, Thursday night to be accurate. So Friday and Saturday were the weekend we had no plans. We had no plans and we didn’t care. It was our anniversary. It has been some time now since we stood solemn and nervous in a field of wild flowers and towering aspen.
This anniversary night we spread a blanket on the back lawn and looked out into the night sky. A few shooting stars streaked across the black and mocked the satellites that plodded along. We talked and laughed together, much like any other day, much like any day of any year past. It wasn’t a special day, our anniversary. It was another day. Another day in a long happy satisfying string of days that make up the long line of days and years we have spent together.
We did not go out to dinner. We did not give one another gifts or cards. Instead we laughed about our lack of certainty of the date, about how we seem to forget it every year. I forget one year he forgets another. Sometimes we both forget and remember days after. And do we care? No.
I don’t care because he still calls me during the day when he has nothing to say. He likes to make my coffee in the morning. I make him laugh when he takes himself too seriously and especially when I take myself too seriously. He gives me diamond earrings for Father’s day…the twenty-somethingth Fathers day. I lay with him till he falls asleep though he goes to bed hours before I do. He leaves me little notes and I write back. And sometimes… he just looks at me. He looks at me like he did when he was 22 and the world was in front of him. He looks at me as though I were a bright and shining possibility. He looks at me and sees everything I ever wanted to be and he still believes.
There is no date on that. No special day when it counts more than the others. There is no gift wrap or Hallmark sentiment that comes after the entree. There is only that look in his eye after all these years. That look that tells me he truly knows who I am. That look that says he believes in me, even more than I believe in myself. For that I lie on a blanket in the backyard and look up to the heavens and thank God for this man. No gift wrap necessary.