My wife and I hit our eight year anniversary this week. Not
a very “big” anniversary but a celebration none the less. For the man these are
the best anniversaries because there is far less pressure. We're two years away
from our ten year and I already have sweaty palms trying to think up a creative,
fun way to celebrate. Plus, apparently you are supposed to give diamonds for
your 10 year anniversary. Diamonds. DIAMONDS. I need to start saving now,
right? Once I actually set aside enough money to buy DIAMONDS I then have to
pick out something she will cherish. It can’t be too trendy because this is a
meaningful gift she’ll want to enjoy for the rest of our entire lives. That’s
like (hopefully) 50 years of staying fashionable! I need to save money and purchase DIAMONDS that will
still be in style in 2066. Oh wait, I also have to make sure that these never
out of style DIAMONDS I purchase aren’t blood DIAMONDS. I can’t totally
remember what that means but I know Leonardo DiCaprio really doesn’t want us to
purchase them. It seems like it would be easier to avoid purchasing blood
DIAMONDS if they had actual blood on them. Anyway, stressful is what I’m
getting at.
Meanwhile the eight year anniversary simply consists of me
taking my wife out to a restaurant that she won’t be out of place at wearing a
dress, buying a small gift of some sort that doesn’t have etiquette rules tied
to it, and limiting my belches to only once. And to just be completely candid,
I let a poot slip during the date and she still considered it a smashing
success. Eight year anniversaries are the best!
Despite being easy, our eight year anniversary did still force
this non emoting man to reflect on his past with the dashing woman he was sharing semi fine dining with. During all this emoting I thought back to the
first time I truly remember “seeing” Katherine. I know we had run across each
other once or twice before then but she was a few grades below me and in high
school people who are more than one grade behind you basically don’t exist. They are like the Bible version of a leper. I
definitely remember giving her cousin (one of my best friends, Jon Keller) a hard time
about thinking she was easy on the eyes. Those were my exact words because I
was a very respectful teenager. “Jon, your ivory skinned cousin is easy on the
eyes and I would immensely enjoy purchasing her a meal sometime.” Like I said,
I was polite.
So, ok. Back to the time I REALLY remember seeing Kat for
the first time. I was at the house of one of my other best friends, Will Hawk.
Will’s dad was having a neighborhood fish fry because he is awesome and seems
to oddly enjoy watching those he loves eat food that he prepares. One of 1,000
reasons I was insanely scared of his dad as a child. BACK TO THE POINT,
BRANDON! I was in line to get my meal and Katherine was in front of me and she
was wearing a high school sorority shirt which stated boldly on it, “Kiss Me, I’m
Irish”. I distinctly remember at the same simply thinking, “ok”. I would like to say that I boldly followed my
instinct to grab her by the arm, spin her 180 degrees, wrap my arms around her,
and give her that kiss that her shirt clearly wanted me to give her! We would
have instantly fallen in love, spent the next 4-5 years together dating,
relishing in each other’s company through our late teen years, and had an
amazing story of how we fell in love.
Instead I sheepishly placed mounds of fried fish on my plate
and went and stuffed my face. I spent the next two years of my life dating a
girl who was a nice enough girl, but obviously not the girl I decided to spend
the rest of my life with and Katherine spent the next few years being insanely
attractive in my peripheral vision.
Often when I think back on this story it depresses me that I
missed out on two extra years of Katherine in my life and makes me want to go
back in time and Hulk Smash 19 year old Brandon. What a goob. Your wife was
right in front of you and her shirt was begging you to claim her!
Instead of wallowing in all my past dumb decisions like I
normally do this time I found myself being challenged by this story. Live
boldly Brandon! Ok, maybe kissing Katherine wouldn’t have been that wise. I can
assure you her father wouldn’t have thought it was wise! But, speaking to her
would have been an appropriate amount of bold.
Because of 17 year old Katherine and her directive giving
t-shirt I am challenged to not make the easy decision. Make the decisions that
might be more difficult, more embarrassing, more odd than the ones I normally
make. Make the decisions that have the
opportunity to flip my entire world on its axis. Make the decisions that are
story worthy.
My first decision is that on my daughter’s 18th
birthday I will be purchasing her a “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” t-shirt and just wait
to see which bold young man comes to claim his bride. Bad parenting? Maybe.
But, at least it’s bold parenting.
