Celebrating 10 Years

A lot can happen in ten years. One decade. Yesterday, I was getting in the car with my Mom and Dad wearing an ivory and rum pink wedding gown...and ten years later, my life looks so different, but is very much the same.

My Mom, if she were here, would have said, I wasn't sure you'd make it this long. She knew that I marched to my own little drum and parading around on the streets with no names. She was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to stay in step with one other person for all of eternity. But, she was wrong.

Certainly, over the years, my band has included lots of people, but over in the corner, playing his own little drum kit, is Dave. Sometimes our cymbals crash and clash, but, overall, the music is good; it has a strong beat, a nice rhythm, and it is as diverse as it simple.

There is no guesswork involved; Dave and I are polar opposites on most things. He like acid metal and hot dogs; I like classical piano and tofu. He likes leather biker jackets and old cars; I like Indian dresses and Range Rovers. He reads books about rock stars; I read books about Laura Ingalls. We are very different.

But, there are some things that we have in common, and these have been the most important things in life.

We both believe in God, and our friendship and love is rooted in Him. We both celebrate individuality over conformity. We both love children and believe that they deserve the best we can give them. We both believe in the power of prayer. We both believe in the sanctity of music. We both believe that charity is more than giving money. We both believe that loyalty is the best give we can give our friends and family. We both believe in the power of forgiveness, and we always find a way to work out an argument.

Things are never perfect, and I am not perfect, and he isn't either. But, for ten years, we have learned to do what we said we would do when we said our vows 10 years ago:

Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Happy Anniversary, Dave!