It's official: we've successfully completed 730 days of wedded bliss. Two years ago today, we stood in front of 315 guests and pledged our love to one another. When reflecting about our anniversary recently, I asked Ryan if it felt like it had been 2 years already and he said "It actually feels like a lot longer." Make that 729 days of wedded bliss.
I erred on the side of sweet when I assumed he meant that it's just hard to think of when our lives were once separate. He gladly took the free pass and nodded in total agreement. No wonder it's been a pretty easy first couple of years - he's a charmer!
This date will always be bittersweet for me, as today also marks 3 years since I lost one of my very favorite people in the whole world - my Uncle Terry. I loved him dearly and am so sad to think that 3 years have gone by without him!
He was very ornery; his trait that I miss the most. When I 'graduated' from Kindergarten, our teacher had us perform a silly song that I vaguely remember being based off of a mother's exotic soup recipe. The song recounted ingredients such as 'alligator eyes' and 'salamander thighs' and various other off-putting delicacies. And from the first time I ever sang that song for him, Uncle Terry took to making his own outrageous animal combinations. From that day forth, I answered to 'Elephant Butt', 'Rhinoceros Nose', and any number of other friendly jabs. Being that I was 5, the most creative response I could come up with was 'Buzzard Beak'. In his final days, as the pain medication grew stronger with the cancer, Uncle Terry's spunk never waivered, and he christened me with my last and possibly favorite moniker, 'Boogaloo Boobs'.
Ryan never met him, but he has seen pictures and heard all of the stories. And even though Buzzard Beak wasn't physically there at our wedding, I will never celebrate this day without also celebrating him. And Ryan has taken a very big lesson from Uncle Terry, who had been married to my Aunt Sandy for 41 years, by never once comparing any part of my body to that of an animal, or a boogaloo.
As the seasoned married couple we now are with two years under our belt, we chose to forego a trip or fancy presents and just celebrate our anniversary together, like in our every day life. Ryan took me to Granite City for lunch - the same place he took me the night that he proposed. As we dined, we talked about how our lives (and the menu --- BRING BACK THE CHEESY HASHBROWNS!) have changed over the last two years.
Something that hasn't changed, and probably never will, is Ryan's love for guitars. Since we've been together, he's saved and sold and wheeled and dealed to add to/change his collection more times than I can count. Each guitar ends up with a female name (it helps me differentiate a strat from a tele and a Martin from a Taylor - don't judge!). While I love and support his musical talent, I have recently started having dreams that he wants me to give my wedding ring to the telecaster named Tina. I'm no psychologist, but I may have some slight jealousy issues. Anyway, being that I have been extra protective of my time with him, and my wedding ring, he has put all guitar shopping and most of his 'extracurricular' playing on hold.
Being that I'm an awesome wife, after lunch today I decided to drive him to the guitar shop and spend some time browsing with him. At the 2 year mark, I believe that I have been a musician's wife long enough to see the writing on the wall and know that any given window shopping day may turn into an actual shopping day. I wish I could say that he begged and pleaded to buy a guitar on our anniversary, but he didn't. He mentioned that he liked one, played it, said he really liked it, and I begged him to get it. I've either been brainwashed, or I really am in the running for wife of the year.
Last year, our gifts followed tradition and were made of paper. The second year is supposed to be cotton, but we took a few liberties and made it a solid body guitar with dual humbucker, double cream vintage binding, and block style inlays. She's beautiful, 36" long, 13.5 lbs, and we're working on a name. I'm not certain, but I think the third year is the year of the Jimmy Choo!
With love,
Heidi, Ryan, and our unnamed beauty
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