Living to tell about it - married 20 years

My husband and I celebrated 20 years of wedded bliss this week. OK, "bliss" might be a bit of an exaggeration. "Celebration", though, that is right on the money.

It's difficult for me to put into words what this relationship means to me. I must admit, our longevity has more to do with Dan's quiet and stubborn love than with my own. He has the ability to hold on loosely that allows me to grow and love him more.

He arranged for us to spend some time away from kids, cell phones, lap tops this week, a gesture that both thrilled and shocked me. Funny thing about these quiet guys, they think a lot about doing things but it takes a lot for them to sometimes do them. I don't say this as a complaint or a criticism, for I live the opposite -- thinking too little and doing too much.

So when he told me to pack a bag for the night, I gasped. Did he mean a lunch? Did he mean for me to take the trash out? I was a little slow on the uptake, so he elaborated (OK, that's an exaggeration, too)...he "said", "we're going to a bed and breakfast for the night. " And it was smack dab in the middle of the week - Wednesday!

Because it is January and because we were in the middle of the week, we had the whole place to ourselves - there was not another person in the Inn. It was, (and this is no exaggertion) the absolute best time of our marriage. Quiet, no pressures, nothing we had to "do" or "go to" . He'd even arranged for the kids to spend some time with his dad.

Since we were the only ones at the Inn, we chatted with the waitress at our dinner and she asked us a lot of questions about being married 20 years. It was like we were some kind of freak couple, something almost celebrity-like to her. One of her questions stopped me cold, "what do you think is the thing you would miss most if he wasn't there?"

When you are young and you think about "love and marriage", there are all those childlike things that you think this type of relationship will bring you. Things like having romance in your life, someone to always talk to, someone to "do" stuff with -- that's what I think most of us think about when we think about a long term relationship. I also think that we believe -- or I did - -that marriage is the ultimate commitment.

Well, it isn't. Parenting is.

And marriage is far less about romance, I think, than about revelations. Revelations about yourself, the person you married and the world around you. But heavy on the revelations about yourself.

So that's how I answered her (to her grave disappointment, I think). I said, "I would miss learning more about myself."

She looked at me like I was the most unromantic person she had ever met. She even looked at Dan at bit helplessly, as if she felt sorry for him. Maybe she did.

But I meant it as the ultimate compliment. I think a real marriage teaches the other person about themselves in ways that cannot be learned any other way. I think marriage is where your world meshes with another world and forces changes that are unimagineable before.

So I made a list of things that I've learned about myself over the past 20 years with Dan's help. And I will share it with him sometime. Probably not in the middle of the NCAA tournament (I've definately learned about sacred time!) or during the middle of the fourth quarter of the SuperBowl. I will share it with him sometime when we are not shuttling kids to a myriad of events or planning the menu/meals for the upcoming week. I will share it with him when we are not busy putting our spring garden together or putting the garden away for fall. I will share it with him when we're not trying to figure out who gets the car when Nathan leaves for college or when we're trying to replace the dryer (or dishwasher or refrigerator).

All these things -- though less than thrilling -- are the components of our life together, not really our life. These are the things that are the framework but not really the structure. These are the things that fill up our time but are not enduring.

I can say this one thing with all surety, Dan is the closest thing to God's grace that I've ever seen, known or felt on earth. He embodies a kindness that reveals more to me on any given day than 1,000 sermons or scriptures. His constant walk with me these past 20 years has not only given new lives, it has more than saved my own.

I hope that I can figure out how to say this better, in case I'm ever asked again.

Woman emerges from holiday coma, film at 11

I wondered out today and did my only "holiday" shopping. You know, the REAL stuff, where you buy things with someone else's money?

I believe that one of the reasons God made the internet is for people like me -- who absolutely detest the whole shopping-on-foot experience. So therefore, I shop mainly online, and no, I don't worry about identity theft. If anybody is THAT desperate for my identity, they probably need it more than I do.

Every now and then, it's good to see how the other half lives. So I planned an adventurous outing to find something to wear on an upcoming business trip. Being New Year's Day, I went to my favorite store and the store was eerily quiet. Dazed and confused sales clerks stood leaning against their registers, looking shell-shocked and somber. Someone was sweeping in the boutique area. It was quiet, like they were all in mourning or something.

I think there should be a new holiday for those that work retail, call it "holiday sales help appreciation day" or something. Maybe offer counseling to those that had 500 hours of retail holiday sales help. Or they could offer anxiety medications as a benefit for those that work Oct 31 through Jan 1.

Of course, that might infer that they actually do "help" a person with their shopping, wouldn't it? It might infer that they would do more than point - vaguely - in the direction of where you'd like to find something in your size. It might infer that they would not walk away from their little perch when you (finally!) am ready to check out. It might infer that they actually look at you when you say "May I help you?". The last clerk who said that to me streaked by me so fast, I think she created a time warp.

I have the perfect shopping companion -- my 17 year old son. For a mere $10 in gas money and a chili dog at Sonic, he provides excellent fashion consultation. You want an honest opinion on if you look fat in a skirt? He's your guy. He actually told me that one outfit I tried on (one that I really, really liked!) made me look like the sofa in the Pier 1 catalog. I quickly returned it to the rack. Personal shoppers, take note! THIS is what we really want when we ask for your help. Affordable fashion advice, delivered in a no nonsense fashion.

I tried to be adventurous in my selections, which means, I tried on at least one item that wasn't black. But I have to be realistic - -the fashions that grace most of the fashion mags cannot be worn by a forty-plus figure. My belly button does not need to be exhibited anywhere where I am not getting my annual pap smear. Nor, do I need to be courting the fashionistas version of the "return of the 70's". Fringe only looks good on Cher and I am a lot of things, but Cher I am not. (Am I the only one that doesn't remember the 70's as a particularly bad time in the fashion world??)

Still, I'm happy with my selections. Brown pants (though boring) will do me well and I already have boots to match. Whoever came up with that kids line - Garanimals - should really consider designing something for those of us whose fashion star has set. It would be wonderful to know that THIS black (or brown) matches THAT black or brown. I usually find out when I get home that no, it was not.

I heard my son on his phone with a friend who must've asked what he did today. "just some shopping with my mom" is all he would admit to. With tact like that, I expect he'll run for office.