Today Mr. Redmon and I celebrate our first set of three hundred and sixty-five days as a married couple. There was a small part of me that was a little sad when this date made its way closer to us. We had racked up a fair amount of dating anniversaries and it was almost like someone hit a reset button. I know, I know. Who’s counting? It’s not a competition. We’ll catch up though. It’s fun looking back at who we were six and a half years ago at our first one year anniversary. Hand over my heart, by the time we hit that first year I knew he was my husband. But I had enough self-awareness to know that smart seventeen year old girls aren’t supposed to say things like that out loud unless they want a face full of eye rolls and lot of oh-you-just-waits. We were just babies back then. Bright-eyed and full of new love and no idea of what was in store for us except that we were in it together. I imagine I’ll say that same sentence about us another seven years from now, too.
This first year has had a lot of hard moments for me as an individual. And the wonderful thing about having him as a husband is that I didn’t have to deal with it all as an individual. Share the joy and halve the pain. There’s a misconception that each partner has to meet 50/50 in the middle for a successful and happy relationship but its just not true. Sometimes its 50/50 but its impossible to live in the middle of the tight wire all the time. More often than not you’re sliding up and down that scale. Most of the time its 60/40 and then 25/75 and then 10/90 and then 55/45. And every once in awhile its 20/20 and you need to come together to make up that missing 60 percent. Life is always moving and we have to move with it and at times that’s going to mean taking your partner’s hand or throwing them over your shoulder so they don’t get lost in the tide. This entire first year Andrew has been carrying me on his shoulder or watching my back when I insist on running myself. I would say I don’t know how to thank him but I know there will come a day or week or decade that I’ll need to do the same for him. That’s the real beauty in it though. The not keeping tally or carefully doling it out so you’re never giving more than you’re receiving. It might even out in the end, or it might not. It doesn’t really matter.
I, Rachel, take you Andrew to be the husband of my days, the companion of my house, the friend of my life. We shall bear together whatever trouble and sorrow God may lay upon us. And we shall share together whatever good and joyful things God may bring us. With these words and all the words of my heart I marry you and bind my life to yours.