Number Fourteen...Play It Again, Sam

Life has a way of moving in circular motion. From the stroking of the clock to the changing of the seasons, from the burning lines of history books to the fresh inking on today's paper, the moments we celebrate, and even the moments we mourn, are cyclical in nature. As the sun breaks the night's barrier every morning, we can rest assured the stars will reflect its light every evening. And while the earth is spinning around the sun, we, in turn, are making our own revolutions.

This first Monday in June is a day in which I celebrate a life intertwined with love, growth, and humorous reflection. With a glimpse of things to come and a glance at days gone by, I am in humbled awe of how the pages of my life recall a simple story, not unlike the stories of any of you, my friends. Today, as I celebrate the journey my husband and I embarked upon a mere fourteen years ago, I commemorate the anniversaries and memories of our pasts, their imprints upon my soul, and how the contradictions of change and repetition have led me on a path of insightful discovery, transforming growth, and oftentimes questionable attire.

I was gangly, awkward and 9 1/2 years old on June 26, 1985. My legs were long, my glasses were thick, and my hair and shorts were in competition for nonexistence. Looking forward to the celebration of my 10th birthday in the few short weeks to come, I was also excited for the opportunity to secretly be a part of my parents' 14th anniversary surprise. While they were both at work that Wednesday, my sisters and I were also hard at work creating homemade cards, banners, gift boxes, and a cake in their honor. (It is not difficult to see how Angie and I have come to blossom in the local party planning circuit.)



The girls and I worked diligently to transform the garage door into a welcoming declaration so my mother, who would be the first to arrive home that afternoon, would see our love in the form of dot matrix paper decorated with markers. Our babysitter helped us with all the preparations, and as the clock moved closer to four, the anticipation for Mom's arrival heightened.


(Mom, Andi, Me, and Angie)

My parents were both touched and surprised by our efforts, and I can only hope that we helped make their day a little more special. Looking back on those years, I am thankful for their example, for I have been able to pattern my own life after the model of theirs. As a child, I did not realize how the lines of their pages were imprinting upon the pages of mine, and as the chapters of my life turn one to the next, I pray that Xavier's life will be imprinted with as much goodness and sweetness as mine has been.


(Mom and Dad - 36 years old)

Eleven years later, I was a little less gangly, still incredibly awkward, and a month away from my 21st birthday on June 7, 1996. All you have to do is look at my hair and gown to know that. I was the poster bride and epitomy of 1990s culture: Pin a humongous bow to your backside and you're ready to walk down the aisle in style.



Skip forward to June 7, 2010. Fourteen years later, I am wondering where the years have escaped to. As I look at photos from that day long ago, I can see our youth and innocence behind the smiles plastered on our faces. In other words, we were just a couple of dumb kids in love, yet thankfully, it's all worked out in our favor. I have a better stylist now, and Thaus has only increased in his endearing humor.



What will the next year bring? Lots of surprises I am sure. I can never predict which 90 degree turn or upside down loopty loop life's roller coaster will bring, but I do know one thing: Even as our histories cycle around to unify us with our presents and futures, and as our yellowed pages script new lines onto the fresh, white linen of our creation, we will never tire of reading the book of our lives, just as we never tire of hearing our favorite song. Play it again, Sam...