Today is Hubs and I First Anniversary. A year ago we stood in front of a small group of friends and family, said ‘We Did’ and started the next chapter in our lives, officially as husband and wife. The preceding years before that day were filled with hard work, paper work, commuting, packing and moving. It was a huge day for both of us.
We’ve both been married before, (for a long time I was cross at the ‘divorce’ word, it is so ugly), but for both of us our first marriages taught us a lot about what we didn’t want! We had the wedding we wanted, with minimum fuss, faffing, attention, photographs and palaver. The majority of people we wanted to be there, were there, all apart from a few friends who couldn’t travel over from the UK at that time, but sent best wishes and love from afar.
I’ve written before about the day, and this post isn’t about the wedding, this is about the first year we’ve spent together. Hubs has loved taking me to favourite spots in his beloved country, and sat on his anniversary present for me for over a month, (until he gave me 3 guesses and I got it in 2), he’s taking me to Tasmania, Hobart specifically, for a long weekend. Not this weekend, we have a wedding to go to here in Melbourne tomorrow, but soon. He’s so pleased, while he’s travelled more than me, seeing places again through someone else’s eyes always sharpens the image. Particularly when I get emotional and weep all over a landscape at its beauty, or jump up and down clapping my hands with glee when I get excited.
I am both emotional and excited at the prospect of travelling to Hobart. I was both when we went to Port Douglas and I swam on the Reef, something I wanted to do for over twenty years, squawking into my snorkel at the fish and coral, glad I was holding onto Hubs’ hand to share it. I am both when I see the light towers of the MCG, and I don’t even need to be going to the G, I just need to see them to be reminded, ‘Hello! You live in AUSTRALIA!’ Travelling on the train, I approach Richmond station grinning, leaning over to look out the windows, wondering why other commuters don’t get excited too. I was the same when I saw the Tower Of London, London Bridge and Tower Bridge.
Seeing things on a daily basis can breed complacency. But only if you let it. We deliberately set the alarm half an hour earlier than we need to during the week so we can spoon and cuddle, easing ourselves into the day, we talk gently, listening to the radio, doze in and out, Revelling in the sheer luxuriousness of it all, instead of having to leap out of bed as soon as the alarm goes off as we had to for so long in the UK. Hubs totters downstairs first and makes me two cups of tea, every day.
This marriage is so different from what I’ve known before, I felt safe the first time I met him and he gave me a hug. We had a wobbly start, but kept drifting back to each other, laughing and talking about anything and everything. I’ve friends I can go shopping with, I’ve friends I can go to museums with, I’ve friends I can go to the cinema, but not all of them overlap into knowing I will be comfortable with them wherever I go. With my partner in life, my partner in crime, I know we can go anywhere and we’ll have a great time. He’s opened my eyes to the world we live in; I love making him laugh because he doesn’t laugh out loud very often, he usually just grins, so it’s a special sound; he’s patient with my foibles, teasing me when I siege-pack, or change my clothes three times before we leave the house, or if I have a bad-hair day and have to leap back into the shower to sort it out; tells me I am beautiful when I feel awful (like now with bed-head, sinusitis and a glowing red nose) and will wait patiently when I queue to meet people I admire. As I wrote in his card, it seems unfair that he’s only celebrated 1 day a year, for putting up with me the other 364.
Here’s to many more years together.