November is difficult. On the 20th, we would have been married for 12 years. We never really celebrated our anniversary. We had been together about 3 years prior to the wedding and we just considered the date a mile marker of sorts. It was something to make note of; a point of reference.
I remember our 10th anniversary. That morning, my husband and I had gone over to my Mom's house to help her out with a couple of things. My phone rang.
Me: "Hello?"
Daughter: "Happy Anniversary!"
Me: "Anniversary of what?"
Daughter: *sighs* "You're wedding?"
Me: "Oh...thanks."
Daughter: *rolls eyes* (I can hear that through the phone, being that I'm a mom) "Whatever. I'll see you when you get home."
Me: "Okay, bye sweetie."
*Husband walks into room*
Me: "Guess what? B______ just called to say happy anniversary."
Husband: "Anniversary of what?"
The memory of that conversation always leaves me with a smile. I find myself clinging to each and every memory but this memory, ironically a memory of forgetfulness, this one I store safely at the center of my heart.
Why? Because I suspect I won't ever forget that date again.
