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<\/p>\n\u201cLove is complicated. Marriage can be hard. Living together poses challenges. It\u2019s a lot of work. And, nowadays, in the mystical land of social media, you can\u2019t help but feel like you\u2019re always trying to keep up with the fairytale life everybody is posting about. But, listen, I don\u2019t care how many perfectly staged pictures somebody posts, or how many times somebody writes about the #bestdinnerever or how great their kids are or that their husband is the handiest handyman around \u2013 everybody has issues once in a while. Everybody.<\/p>\n
You might already know my story, or at least how it ends. But you might not know how it started. My husband and I met in high school, back in the 80\u2019s when big hair and pegged jeans were cool. I fell in love with him, his hair and his Levi\u2019s right away. He was my Jake Ryan, John Bender and every other John Hughes character rolled into one. And, boy, did I love him. I never stopped, even after our true love took a 13-year hiatus until we found each other again, got married, blended our families and started one of our own. It was great. It was fun. It was all things amazing.<\/p>\n
But the first year sucked.<\/p>\n
The first year we were figuring it out. We were finding our roles. We were parenting each other\u2019s kids, dealing with exes. We bought a house. He started a business. We had a ton of stress. We were learning how to be in a relationship as adults. Instead of running out for ice cream like we did when we were kids, we were paying bills. Doing laundry. Cleaning dishes. Sure, there were some good times but as two really strong-minded and stubborn people, we were butting heads. A lot.<\/p>\n
And, one day, it exploded.<\/p>\n
My husband was a patient man, and before my hysterectomy, I was a full-fledged crazy woman half the time. Okay, most of the time, but whatever. I did, however appreciate it when I did finally have all the lady bits out that about six months later, he noted I was a \u201850% nicer person,\u2019 so on a side note, ladies, if you\u2019re done having kids and you\u2019re crazy, maybe consider that option. It\u2019s cheaper than therapy in the long run. I am a very content member of the \u2018Happy Hysterectomy Club.\u2019<\/p>\n
Anyway, back to this. Who knows what we were fighting about on this particular day. I just remember I was about seven months pregnant and whatever he did that day pissed me off. Maybe it was him breathing. Maybe it was the way he slurped his coffee. I have no idea because I was cursed by raging hormones. All the man was doing was getting ready for work. But, in my ridiculousness, I told him I wanted his ring.<\/p>\n
He must\u2019ve had enough, because he handed it to me, and calmly walked out to his car to go to work. You think I was satisfied because he complied with my command?<\/p>\n
Oh, hell no. I did what every non-reasonable, pregnant, insane woman would do.<\/p>\n
I followed him. Oh yes, I waddled after him, appalled that he would give me his ring, even though I demanded it. But, by the time I caught up to him, he was already in his car, pulling away. So, I did the next most non-reasonable thing I could think of in that moment.<\/p>\n
I threw it at the car.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The shock on his face was priceless as it hit the windshield and bounced off, rolling down the hill that we lived on. He drove away shaking his head while I held my pregnant belly in my hands chasing after the piece of platinum spinning down the asphalt to who knows where. There were a million words coming out of my mouth, but the most significant thing I remember was asking myself over and over, \u201cwhat did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n
I made it to the end of the driveway, then to the road and down the hill, and it was gone. It was nowhere to be found. It literally disappeared. I looked and looked and looked. And, as I walked back up the hill, I realized there was a gutter, with a drop off at least eight feet down. I fell to my knees and looked in. It was dark. I couldn\u2019t see. I had visions of \u2018IT\u2019 reaching out to me to pull me down, but I knew in that moment I would rather have a death by clown than tell him his ring was floating out to sea. I had to do something. I had to act fast.<\/p>\n
I wobbled back up to the house and grabbed the phone. I thought about calling 9-1-1. I thought about calling him. But, instead, I called the city, all the while trying to compose my thoughts as the phone rang. I was ready to admit what a horrible person I was to the person who answered. I was ready to confess my sins. I was ready to tell them how stupid I was. Until they picked up.<\/p>\n
My confidence dumped. My adrenaline took over. My voice increased by five octaves.<\/p>\n
\u2018Um, yes. Hi. So, I have a problem.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018What\u2019s that, ma\u2019am?\u2019 At least the lady on the other line sounded interested.<\/p>\n
\u2018Um, well\u2026\u2019 I stammered. Think of something to say. Think. Hurry up. \u2018You see, my husband was leaving for work and he forgot his wedding ring. So, I ran it out there and he was putting is on, and he dropped it.\u2019 I face palmed myself. I sounded like an idiot. \u2018Anyway, it rolled down the hill and I think it\u2019s in the gutter.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018He dropped it?,\u2019 she asked, unbelievingly.<\/p>\n
Oh, please lady, please just let me out of my personal hell. I pursed my lips, closed my eyes and wrenched my face. I should just tell her the truth. She would understand, right? She\u2019s probably married. Maybe she\u2019s pregnant. I clenched my fist and quietly pumped it in the air. \u2018Yes, ma\u2019am. Slippery little thing.\u2019 Long pause. \u2018Hello?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Uh-huh. Well, I will get somebody out there to see what we can do.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Thank you.\u2019 Click.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t wait inside. For the first time in my 210 days in pregnancy, I wasn\u2019t hungry. I was panicked. My husband\u2019s wedding ring was surely on its way to the Pacific Ocean and there was nothing I could do about it. I toddled myself back out to the street and looked again. I went back to the gutter, to the scene of the crime and tried to crouch down. I wanted to lay down and look, just reach in, even though I knew I would never be able to get my arm in that far, not to mention there was no way I could lay on my basketball stomach. But it didn\u2019t stop me. No, I was going to rip off the safety gate and squeeze in there. I could see a ladder inside. If I could just get on my side and scooch in, maybe I would fit. I had to try.<\/p>\n
In my cute maternity dress, I laid down on my side, and pulled my way over. I knew I wouldn\u2019t fit, but it wasn\u2019t until a worker from a construction crew next door walked up and asked if I needed help that I realized that the idiot in me had taken over my life. I got up. Rubbed my hands on my skirt. I was ready to admit defeat. That was, until I looked past him, and a sparkle caught my eye under the tire of his truck. Oh, thank you construction man, thank you! Thank you for parking your truck right there, and that moment, and catching the ring under your tire. He had no idea why this pregnant woman was clapping and squealing in delight, but my best guess was that he had a wife, too, and learned long ago not to ask questions. I ran and picked it up, held it in my hand and then to my heart vowing never to throw it at my husband again.<\/p>\n
A week or so later, when my husband was finally speaking to me again, I apologized profusely and begged for his forgiveness. He smiled, leaned forward in his chair and took my hands in his. I asked him how he could be so nice to me after I was a wretch to him. He laughed a little, gave me a crooked grin and responded.<\/p>\n
\u2018I choose to love you.\u2019 I cocked my head to the side as if further explanation was needed. \u2018I\u2019ve made a decision. I choose to love you. Whether that\u2019s in the good times, bad times, whatever it is, I choose to love you through it all.\u2019<\/p>\n
And that\u2019s when I knew I had married the greatest man in the world. A man who recognized that love isn\u2019t always a feeling. It\u2019s not always an emotion. It\u2019s not only reserved for the times when things are great. But he understood that love is a decision. A decision to promise commitment, safety, dedication and above all, patience and forgiveness. He taught me that. He taught me how to choose to be the better person. He taught me how to be better. He taught me how to love the un-loveable, console the un-consolable and how to always make sure I was doing the right thing. He taught me how to choose to love, and he did this until the day he died.<\/p>\n
That ring, oh yes that ring. We lost it one time after that incident, some 15 years later when he lost so much weight during his cancer journey that it slid off when he didn\u2019t expect it. That time, I thought it was lost forever, but like true love, we found it again. It sits safely now in a shadow box I made him after he left us, along with his police patches. It\u2019s mounted on my wall, under the flag that was draped over his casket, a flag that represents the same honor, commitment, and courage that he lived his life by. The same values that he had in our marriage and imparted on me and my children. He left a legacy for us, and while we would much rather have him here, I can\u2019t ever thank him enough for loving us so much that he left us with all the good things.<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
No, marriage is not easy. Love can be hard. It\u2019s not a Facebook post or blog or the thing of movies. Sometimes it\u2019s messy hair and spit up on your shirt. Sometimes it\u2019s arguments and ring throwing. But in the end, as you hold the hand of the person you love and watch them leave the earth you stand on, you remember what love is. It\u2019s a choice. It\u2019s a great, big, beautiful choice.\u201d<\/p>\n
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