We Interrupt This Anniversary to Bring You Disaster Relief Efforts in Manitoba

This week is my 10 year anniversary.

And, not suprisingly, my dh is where he usually is during ‘major’ life events… off saving the world somewhere while I stay home and look after the kids.  He was a little upset to miss it.  I reminded him he wasen’t home for our first anniversary, or most of the anniversaries in between, and so why ruin the whole trend we have going?  It’s just a day.  And him not being home doesn’t make us less married.

In fact, it makes it the perfect anniversary.

Because, in fact, if he were home, I would have EXPECTATIONS.  And, invariably, those expectations would not be reached.  There would be disapointment.  I would be thinking “but it wasen’t as perfect as I pictured.”

When a husband deploys what you have, in essence, is the perfect husband for however long he is gone.  Because really, how can you fault him for anything while he’s away?  He doesn’t leave the toilet seat up, mess up the kitchen, hog the bathroom or fill the laundry room with his crap and make it impossible to do anyone elses laundry but his own.  He’s off being all heroic.  And your memories of him soon become perfect memories of a perfect life together.  It’s total fiction, but it’s wonderful.

So while he’s away this anniversary, I will remember those perfect moments and how he’s the perfect husband while I have the chance.  Before he get’s home and my front room looks like the army came and threw up in it.

10 years ago, I did have an amazing fairytale wedding.  After spending the night at my Maid of Honour’s house (partly because it was fun, partly because my relatives had all arrived in town and I had no where to sleep at my parent’s) I went to the salon and had my hair put in what was essentially the same wonderful updo I had for my high school grad less than 2 years before.  Then, veil in hair, I went for lunch at MacDonald’s where everyone thought the barely 20 year old me was joking about it being my wedding day.
Afterwards I drove to the chapel with my bridesmaids, waving at everyone I passed because it was all about me.  I sat up in the brides room, climbed into my corset and nylons and dress and waited for my big moment.  As one of my Maids of Honour (Ya, I had two.  I needed two.  I’m high maintenance)  started out the door down the aisle, she looked at me and mouthed “I Love You” and I started to cry.  And from that moment on, the day is a blur.  I can’t even tell you about it because I really just don’t remember.  In fact, what I remember most is the fact that my dress kept slipping and I was constantly turning around and hiking it back up.  I probably spent most of the night flashing someone. 

But I’ve already written about my wedding.
I’ve also already written about how great my dh is.  You should definitely read that if you haven’t yet.  You’ll fall in love with him a little too.

What I do remember is that walk back down the aisle when it was all over.  We had a Sword Party, which in the Armoured Corp means 6 or so soldiers stand at the end of the aisle and hold their swords up for you to walk underneath.  It was one of my favorite parts of the ceremony.  Once passed, what I didn’t know would happen is the next tradition – one of the men lowers his sword, smacks you on the butt and they all say

“Welcome to the Corp”

I turned red and giggled.  And I remember feeling really cool, like only a 20 year old new bride can.  Like I belonged.  The meaning of the words had hardly no connotation to me.  I came from a non-military family, lived in a city that didn’t have a military presence and in a reality, knew basically nothing about what it meant to be an army wife short of the fact that my new husband looked really hot in uniform.  I didn’t know that those 4 words would mean a lot more.

Even if they didn’t know it, what those 6 Soldiers meant was:

Welcome to learning a new language made up entirely of acronyms, the order of the chain of command and the difference between a Tank, a Coyote and a LAV.

Welcome to hurry up and wait. 

Welcome to many, many nights alone.

Welcome to learning to make a ghuille suit and doing it for him just because he only has one weekend home and you would rather he spends it with you than with burlap and netting.

Welcome to the completely irrational fear of going to bed with your front room a mess.

Welcome to an indescribable sense of pride at the mention of his name or his unit.

Welcome to accepting that being a soldier isn’t what he does but who he is.  And those times he leaves with little notice, he misses special days and he can’t be there to hold your hand when you need him, it’s not because he loves you less, but because he was called to something bigger than himself.

If it’s possible to describe, it’s almost because he loves you more.

And being selfless and sweet, that’s kinda been what my dh has been about since the beginning.

And even though his vows had a cheesy but incredibly sweet line about looking in my eyes and seeing our future children (Now all I can picture is him seeing our three kids screaming in the backseat of the car when he looks into my eyes), my vows had a lot to do with who he represented to me.  He was, and still is, the one who has patiently and with incredible strength, allowed me to see who I am.

I love you, Sargent.  If possible, even more than I loved Trooper you 10 years ago.  How could I not?  Right now, while you’re off doing your saving the world thing, you are even more perfect then when you are home loading the dishwasher wrong and holding me at night when the wind makes me a little scared for no good reason.

So, to my love on our anniversary, the poem that we included in our Wedding Program seems even more beautiful now, 10 years, much seperation and 3 loud kids later:

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