I knew that I should have written this post a while back and just scheduled it to post today, but here I am, at 5:45 AM on the morning of Heidi’s and my 16th wedding anniversary, a full day of work ahead of me and I have nothing. Actually, I take that back – I have this.
I was in bed reading one night not too long ago and Heidi was sleeping next to me when suddenly, from out of nowhere, I remembered this song. When Heidi and I first met, her knowledge of pop music was stunningly low. If I recall correctly, it was pretty much Roxette. Beyond that, she listened to what we later termed “frou-frou music” – things in the vein of Enya, Deep Forest, Dead Can Dance and others. While this may sound like a derogatory term, it is actually a term of endearment. Because just as I brought pop music into her life, she brought the frou-frou music into mine. And one of those songs was Ronan Hardiman’s “Love Song.” When I remembered that song, laying in bed that night, I immediately had to go find it on Spotify. Suddenly, I was no longer 41 years old with a tween daughter, but it was all young love again – a love that I had, at that point in my life, long since given up on ever finding.
And here we are 16 years later and I’m listening to “Love Song” again this morning. It’s such a simple song, yet it isn’t – much like the emotion that it describes. The awesome thing about music is that it conjures up, at least for me, the feelings of times gone by and brings them into the present. As I listen to “Love Song” – bleary-eyed from a long week that has kicked my ass to the moon and back – it comforts me because it reminds me of the comfort that comes from someone knowing you so well. It also reminds me of the anxiety-ridden bundle of nerves that daring to love someone can create and what a calculated risk any relationship is.
We aren’t those young kids any longer. Like everyone, we’ve had our ups and downs over the years. You don’t spend a decade and a half with someone and expect it to be smooth sailing all the way – we are only human, after all. But I’d like to think that for as much as we’ve changed over the years and become different people than we were when we met, we’ve changed in ways that have kept us on the similar paths. And when those paths have diverged, we’ve always found our way back to each other.
So on our 16th anniversary, I just want the world to know that I’m so glad I took a chance on love all those years ago when I felt like I had absolutely no boyfriend skills whatsoever. I’m glad that she was able to see the part of me that was capable of love, even when I was convinced that I was not all that loveable. We always joke that Heidi basically stalked me in the early days of our relationship, and to a point, that was true. But truth be told, I quite enjoyed that part.
Heidi, I love you, how I love you. As Anna would say, I love you times infinity plus one.