Ten Years

Sunday marked our tenth wedding anniversary. What can I say about that? My siblings and their spouses were all impressed that we'd been married for so long. Only my oldest sister has been married longer. (I'm the third of seven children.) My younger brother got married earlier in the year. He and his wife are about ten years younger than us.

They're so young.

What does that make me?

Wise, I'm sure. It's funny, but Ammii and I went to the same high school and never met. I was a senior when she was a sophomore. I was in band, and spent a lot of time hanging around the band room. She was in orchestra and spent a lot of time right next door in the orchestra room. I think I remember seeing her in the halls or at her locker, but I never knew her name, never said a word that I recall.

For her part, Ammii remembers being annoyed by a group of saxophonists practicing Sabre Dance in the hall before school. Like we thought we were so cool. I was part of that group. She swore she'd never marry a saxophonist.

What if someone had taken me by the shoulders and pointed me in her direction? What if they'd said, "There's the girl you're going to fall in love with and marry"? (And how does one punctuate a sentence like that?) Would I have been impressed?

Four years later when we really met, I was very impressed. I remember walking into her parents' house, shaking her hand. She was my sister's friend by then. They were going caroling to a nursing home in early December and invited me to come. Ammii had a crush on another guy in the group and did her best to stay near him.

And I stayed near her. I loved her laugh. The way her wrists moved as she played the guitar. The curve of her voice, the line of her jaw, the nervous confidence. I don't know if I ever registered that she was nervous because she was trying to impress that other guy. All I know is that I never felt more at ease around anyone. It's hard for me to be myself around strangers, but Ann Marie didn't feel like a stranger.

That other guy—the one she liked—never worried me in the slightest. That was the most amazing effect she had on me. Normally, if there was any hint at all that a girl liked someone else, I wouldn't bother trying. Normally, I was terrified and tongue-tied. But she brought out the best in me and then she fell in love with it. She never had a chance. Nor did I.

Ten years is a good start.


  1. Happy anniversary! Nice post, too! Romantic-like.

  2. Happy anniversary! And what a sweet post. What instrument does Ammii play (the one she played in the orchestra - not the guitar, of course)?

  3. Sigh . . . that was SO sweet.

    You'd definitely get along with Mike (my husband)
    We're 15 years this wednesday.
    FORTUNATELY I only have one younger sibling, and he isn't all that younger than me.
    And yes, I agree.
    10 years is a good start.
    So is 15.

  4. Happy anniversary! I never think of myself as being married, much less for 10 years. But you make it sound very calming.

  5. Happy 10 year Anniversary!!! This is such a sweet post. Wishing you and your wife many more wonderful years together!

  6. I remember my 10th anniversary. My husband wrote me a poem. It wasn't just an easy 4 liner, either. It took up a whole page. It was so sweet and I framed it. Happy anniversary!

  7. Congrats on ten years, Ben. That's fantastic.

    As a french horn player, I swore I'd never marry a saxaphonist either. I didn't, either. Nathan ran track and cc, but took up the guitar in college...not quite as much of a nerd as me, but passable;)

  8. Yeah, that was sweet:). Remember when you said you hoped you could marry a girl who was like your sisters? ...must be why she fits in so well!

  9. "(And how does one punctuate a sentence like that?)"

    Punctuation inside the quotation marks at all times. And in that case, the question mark was the correct ending to the sentence. ;)

    This is a great post!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

No, wait! I like this query better!

The Writer's Voice

LDS Writer Blogfest: The Atonement Covers All Pain