like a horse and carriage

I've been absolutely horrible at keeping up this blog, but wanted to post something to mark our one-year anniversary - although I am well over a month late in doing so. Life has been sweet, and we are so lucky. Some say the first year is hardest; I say if that was the hardest year, we got off scot-free. I mean, it wasn't the teddy bear's picnic or anything, but neither was it full of constant fighting or jarring revelations. Cub had more or less moved in within four months of our meeting each other, so we got the jarring revelations out of the way much sooner than the first year of our marriage. I think something that has played a hugely positive role in our fledgling marriage is our involvement with Engaged Encounter, a Catholic organization that helps engaged couples discover aspects of each other and their relationship over a weekend of discussion, prayer, and talks by senior and junior teams of married couples. Basically, if you want to be married in the Catholic Church, in Honolulu (and in many other dioceses across the U.S.) you are required to attend EE.

Although it's a required weekend retreat, it's not preachy, holier-than-thou, or even really very "Catholic" in nature. Very spiritual, but it doesn't turn off non-Catholic participants. The greatest thing was and continues to be the volunteers, because being graced with friends who are married - who believe in marriage, who love being married, and who work at their relationship with passion - is a great fortune. Couples who have been married 40+ years, couples who have been married less than a year and all couples in between form a community of volunteers and friends who, at the end of some long days, are a major source of inspiration for this couple to sit down and talk things out productively, acknowledging the grace of God and our being chosen for and by each other, no matter how vividly we may be imagining a big red boxing glove on a direct, slow-mo path to the other's face.

Despite my being slightly overextended in other projects and work-related things, we decided to increase our volunteer involvement with EE 1) to support the organization (and the people behind the organization) that contributed greatly to our strong start and 2) to strengthen our friendships with the other people, whose own examples remind us to turn to each other when our relationship is stressed and not away from each other.

Re-reading this all and realizing I made EE sound like a cult and us like religious fanatics. Totally inaccurate on both counts, but I'm tired.

Updates: We still haven't honeymooned, we now have three kids (moved my old kitty cat in with us so now we are a family of 5 with 16 total legs. If I count the turtle we're a family of 6 with 20 total legs. If I count the worm bin we're a family of several hundred, but still with 20 total legs. I'm ... tired.) Our apartment's a mess - but less of a mess than before, and the mess causes fewer problems than before. We're moving as soon as we clear a couple of consecutive weekends to finish our new-old place. I now cook most of the meals we eat at home (as opposed to before, when occasions on which I cooked were declared state holidays.) We're training for a marathon. I do believe we might be quietly out of our minds. But we're having fun!

One particularly rough patch we rode out together in '09 - not in our relationship, but in my family - was my Mom's diagnosis of esophogeal cancer. She was diagnosed in September with the very early stages and was hospitalized right away. She underwent major surgery, endured a lengthy hospital stay, and is now finishing her monthly in-patient chemotherapy treatments. My mom's pretty tough (as anyone who watched her raise us knows), but this was a trying time for all of us. Cub took all of the adjustments in stride, taking care of the animals and household without complaint when I was busy helping, visiting or sleeping over with my mom in the hospital. My mom is a very private person and insisted she have no visitors until she was out the hospital, which upset Cub because he felt very much like part of the family and didn't understand why he was being kept away, especially because he wasn't able to be with me during those tough visits. This is so different from me - I am not comfortable in hospitals with people who are not directly related to me (even then, my loquacious nature mysteriously flees me and I am a big awkward mumbling mess.) I would have gladly - nay, thankfully - obeyed anyone's wishes to stay away. But not Cub. Little by little, he chipped away at the ice, and let her, and all of us know (if we weren't already totally convinced) that he was here, and could be counted on to remain my rock. Five months later my mom is completely cancer-free (but will always be closely monitored by her doctors) ... and I'll always remember these months and the way Cub took on everything I had to drop, made sure I stayed healthy, and so fiercely just wanted to be there.

More recently: For the past couple of weeks we've been a one-car couple - not by choice, but it's challenged us to problem-solve in a tough situation without going at each other's throats. Ride sharing with friends, waking up absurdly early for one to drop off the other at work and still get to their own job on time, and sometimes just being life-giving and accepting the inconvenience so the other person can have a better day are all ways we're dealing with the infirmity of his truck.

Things we learned during our first year: 1) Sometimes things are yucky; fix them together. Or sit on a bench and mock things together. Or eat a pint of ice cream together. However you solve the problem, solve it together. (<--- Seriously difficult for me; my natural inclination is to take my problems to the corner and brood for a good long time.) 2) During a knock-down fight in the middle of a mini family staycation, do not get your car and leave, even for a few hours. Mostly because it makes your in-laws talk about you for months. 3) Sometimes it's okay to let him order a bacon cheeseburger, and sometimes it's okay to let her buy something you know she isn't going to wear. 4) Going to bed at the same time is important. It can't always be done, but it's best to try. 5) Some things may not seem important but are worth a heroic effort: listening to him talk about taking apart an engine, wording things in a way that appeases her mother, taking at least one picture of a happy moment, clarifying what was said before flying into an almighty rage. After this year of training, moving, and hopefully a mini honeymoon, we'll begin seriously planning to start a family. And on that overwhelming note, I need to go pack a lunch for my awesome husband, who is working OT this weekend for us.