Thursday, August 26, 2004

Happy Anniversary

Sixteen years ago today I sat in the passenger seat of my brother’s car, scared to death of what was to come next. Just 16 days past my 18th birthday I thought myself now a man, a man that this day was going to wed his high school sweet heart. In hindsight I was a very, very young boy who was about to do the biggest thing of his life.

The driver, my brother as well as best man for the event, drove in silence. If one did not know better you would think we were headed to a funeral. Originally opposed to the union, my bother eventually conceded to my request that he be my best man. From his look I could tell that he was still concerned.

“Before you do this, promise me one thing.” He finally said, breaking the tense silence.
“What would that be?” I ask with a wary glance.
Knowing that this is the same brother who once talked me into peeing on an electric fence, one tends to be wary.
“Don’t end up like mom and dad…”
“Of course not, we are in love!” I retorted.
I knew what he was trying to say, our parents married far too young and ended up resenting each other for it. We were well aware of what it was like to live day to day in a seething pit of resentment and anger.
“…you are in love now.” He corrected. “But promise me this one thing. Promise me that every morning when you wake up next to her you will look at her. You will look at her and say that this is the only place in the world you want to be. The day you wake up and can’t say that, don’t be there any longer.”

And so for the past 5844 mornings I have done just that. All my lovers know that I do not sleep over. When the date is done, I return to my own bed so that I can wake up next to the woman I love and know that this is the one place in the world I want to be. Save a few exceptions where time and space made it impossible, I have tucked in sleepy lovers, slipped out into the pre-dawn, driven hours, and even crossed international borders so that I could keep that promise.

I love you Tambo. I could not be who I am today with out you. Thank you for loving me, trusting me, laughing with me, and not stuffing me into a wood chipper.