last wednesday matt & i celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary. the traditional gift for 9 years is pottery. the only pottery i want to imagine is demi moore sexily throwing pots in ghost while patrick swayze still makes her swoon even from the other side. coffee mugs or turkey platters only remind me of how functional a marriage at 9 years with 2 children can become. (despite how sexy a hot cup of morning coffee remains...)
traditional wisdom warns against marrying for passion. that sex eventually fizzles when bodies begin to droop and time ticks by. that sexy shivers are an unreliable glue for any relationship. that one should marry for other "values," steadier, sober things that apparently keep a marriage covenant alive. a reliable wise woman once told me: you want passion??? take an art class.
true as this advice might be, i need to weigh in and say: don't totally disregard hot sex! when passion inevitably begins to cool and life becomes as functional as coffee mugs and ice cream bowls, sometimes the only thing that can smack you upside the head and remind you why you married in the first place is good, old fashioned, hot sex. jeans slung low on his hips or the way he picks out a guitar riff in an old rock song. when he orders two shots of tequila before he even asks if you want one. bottoms up he says with a sly wink. an unexpected slap on the bottom or a lingering kiss on the neck while you do the dinner dishes.
in moments like this, marriage is hot. hotter than the uncertain drama of dating. hotter than wondering if he saw the roll on your stomach and might not call you tomorrow. hot because he knows every lump and bump, has seen you on the toilet and trying to push a baby out of your cooch. he's seen you with migraines and strep throat, he's been there when you've puked after too many mixed drinks. and he still thinks you are the sexiest woman alive. there is nothing hotter than that.
on our 7th anniversary i posted a photo retrospective of our marriage here. honestly, i don't even remember what we did last year to celebrate our 8th. this year, he sat by my side in a hospital room while I underwent an unexpected surgery on our anniversary. we laughed, wondering if this is what it means to grow old together - that we accompany each other to medical procedures. next we'll be waiting for him to get a hip replacement. instead of flowers and cards or an exotic trip somewhere, it was alot of hand-holding and being grateful for our health and him feeding me chicken noodle soup when i got home from the hospital, getting me a hot water bottle and picking up my dry cleaning while i watched a movie. i swear, next year it's the seychelles. or at least the el pueblo motel in town.
just before our anniversary, i had this dream and wrote about it here:
In my dream I was riding a camel through the desert. Matt was with me, whispering reassurance that we were almost to safety. he was doing his best to protect me from the scorching sun, from a beastly attack of biting flies, from my desperation & fear even, by covering me with a woven white veil made of linen. He walked beside the camel, fully exposed to the elements, so I could ride in safety. In this dream, I was both inside and outside of myself; watching from above as though I were nearly dead and having an out of body experience, deciding whether to stay or go. As if my spirit might take sail any moment.
Together we were heading toward some important & distantly elusive destination through scorching heat, the sun blazing, desperately thirsty, when a violent sand storm hit. From above, through an open, woven screen in the veil, I could see my eyes which were desperate and flat with dread. flies were buzzing and circling and crawling all over my eyeballs. The watching part of me lifted the veil and crawled underneath so that two of me - my spirit and my flesh & bones body - were riding side by side beneath a canopy of white shade knowing matt was by my side and leading the way. I looked at my face, the true face, and it was mummified. My mouth a silent, screaming 'O'. I was shriveled and dried up, my eyeballs a wide-eyed stare in my head the way African orphans look in the sad television commercials. I hung on for I don't how much longer, swaying with the camel and hanging onto Matt's words of promise.
Finally we came to two massive wooden doors rising out of the desert sand. In the middle of nowhere these stunning carved doors about 60 feet high opened for us, revealeing a shimmering oasis. We had made it to safety: Splashing pools, the shade of date palms, restful beds beneath brightly colored canopies. The water sparkled a turquoise blue and there were gentle, happy people all around. And our children were there waiting...all three of them.
As I tried to make sense of my dream, I began to consider camel medicine. How camels are prepared, created even, to handle long periods of deprivation. That a trek across a desolate expanse doesn't kill them. They are not ruined by hardship. Instead, they are natural survivors. Steady and strong and equipped with all they need within.
I also considered the symbolism of the white veil. The protection from the attacking elements - flies, scorching sun, violent sand. The veil Matt covered me with, to protect me. And finally, after several years of being tangled up with deep, hurtful questions, with a subtle but lingering hint of mutual resentment and blame, with navigating the hardest time our marriage has known, this dream showed me the root of my feelings for him. It showed me the archetype of the man I married. A survivor and provider and a man who will get shit done or die trying. That he will brave the elements to save me, that he will lead me to safety, that he will risk his own self for my well-being. That he believes in us and in our bright shining future. I felt his optimism and the security of him. I felt his solidness and I felt his love.
this dream is the echo of the post i wrote that many years ago - the one i started this post with - that his love language is a practical one. that morning coffee and the recycling taken out on thursdays like clockwork and bills paid and protected camel rides through the desert...this is the kind of man he is. and i am so glad i chose him. and today, 9 years later, with the experience of 'thick & thin' under our belts, i would choose him again.
