What a Happy Anna-vuh-sary!

Man, I’m so giddy I can’t even spell the word!

This Friday, Marshall and I celebrated 5 years of wedded bliss. It’s been fantastic for me, but I don’t know how great it’s been for him. I am a certified basket case after all. *Chortle!*

When I woke up on May 14th, I was just… excited. I still can’t put my finger on why. Our previous anniversaries have always been very sweet, but maybe this one was different because I subconsciously realize that Marshall and I are part of a rare group of married couples who did not get divorced before our 5th year. Despite all our combined foibles, we’ve stuck together.

I think back 7 years ago, and I recall that I almost didn’t marry my husband. I was rapturously in love with another man, who I thought at the time was the embodiment of my every dream come true. He turned out to be a walking nightmare instead. That nightmare is the man we know as Old Douche Bag, who left me broken and pregnant, saying he didn’t want a baby…and especially not a baby girl…and particularly not a dark-skinned baby girl. It was Marshall, my best friend and ex-boyfriend at the time who swooped in to gather my broken pieces. He came to every doctor’s visit , made sure I ate well and gave me a shoulder to lean and cry on. When we saw my daughter Nadjah for the first time during an ultrsound, I asked him what he wanted her to call him.

“Daddy of course.”

He looked at me like it was the most ridiculous question he’d ever heard. He had always been my gallant man before, but that day he became my hero…and I don’t fancy myself as a chick who needs saving. The differences between what I thought I wanted or needed and what I actually had in a man became altogether very clear over the course of the next few years. I thank God that  He pushed me out of  Evil’s way and literally saved me from a ruinous life and ushered me into Marshall’s arms.

My husband is magnificent. He’s one of those men who works hard for everything he has, is self taught in his profession, takes nothing for granted and loves the Lord.  It’s been 14 years since we started dating and he still opens doors for me. I’ve seen few men who love his children the way he does. I mean literally fall in love with them from the time he sees the blue strip/+ sign/ digital ‘pregnant’ after I’ve peed on a little white stick. My heart is warmed with pride when my girls squeal “Daaaaddy!” and the boy kicks me in the face and crawls doggedly to get to his dad for a hug after he’s had a long day at work. It’s as though they know he’s loved them for this long as well.

So yeah, this anniversary was special. We had dinner, watched a movie and had breakfast the next morning. The kids were gone for the weekend, and I caught up on a month’s worth of laundry and he worked on a client website.  It sounds pretty mundane, but for me, it was a serene and exceptional time. Perhaps it’s because we’re so comfortable in other’s presence that we don’t have to try so hard…you know what I mean?

I heard the other day that five is the number for ‘grace’ which in Christian theology is a state of sanctification by God; the state of one who is under such divine influence. ‘Grace’ defines something/someone who has a disposition to kindness or compassion. Grace denotes elegance and refinement. It’s the unmerited favor of God.

Yeah…this weekend, I was definitely feeling like a woman whose marriage is under the influence of grace. What a happy, happy anniversary!