To My Love

Five Seasons and a Baby

For those who don’t know my wife, this is Lauren. She is a St. Paul-proud, fiery, passionate woman who I love with my entire soul.

The running joke is that I don’t remember the day we met. We were in high school, at a Speech tournament in Duluth for the Denfeld Rotary Annual Tournament. It was my first. I’d slipped in the shower the night before and smashed my face on the tub. I remember that my parents thought I needed stitches, and I don’t remember the tournament at all. Apparently, that day was the day we met. She was dating a guy I knew from church, kind of a scrawny type. I wasn’t that at all. I was much bigger than him, every bit the football player I’d been for most of my life. I remember throughout the year thinking she was cute but I’d never have a shot. She and I had some mutual friends, but we really didn’t talk much.

Junior year I joined the musical, and she was the lead. We were doing Zombie Prom.

Seriously. Elite leading lady.

I was in the ensemble, I made some friends, but it really wasn’t anything special for me. Until we got to class in Greek and Roman mythology and Lauren was in my class. In truth, I had a crush on the girl she was sitting next to, but I made my way over to them and sat there for the entire quarter. Her friend hated me. Like really, really hated me. But Lauren and I hit it off. We flirted basically non-stop. I told her friend Jessica that I kind of wanted to ask her out, Jessica gave me her number, and we were off to the races. After rehearsal one night, I asked her on a date. We went to Dairy Queen after a choir concert a week later, she kissed me, and the rest was history. We’ve been together ever since.

We went to prom together that year, as you do when you’re dating in high school.

Pictured: me and a woman who is tremendously out of my league.

I knew a month into dating her that I wanted to marry her. That sounds crazy coming from the perspective of a high school student, but when you know, you know. She was always the one. I had other friends, and I have had other attractions, but no one was ever going to be my partner like she is, was, and will forever be. We did two years long-distance, we moved in together, we lived apart again for a little while, and it’s been her and me ever since. I wouldn’t have it another way.

Once, after a big fight, she asked me why I loved her. I’ve never been able to give a really solid response. It’s really easy to say things like “your eyes” or “I love your smile,” but these aren’t the kind of answers she’s looking for. This frustrates me, as someone who prides himself on his ability to communicate. I do love her, but why? It shouldn’t be this hard to answer.

So I’d like to take this opportunity to answer a question I’ve had 6 years to think about, in a style similar to her favorite movie When Harry Met Sally.

I love the way she eats a cookie. She treats it with care. I love the look on her face when she gets really excited when she gets some fun, nerdy news. I love her passion when talking about movies and I love her anger when talking about injustice. I love that it’s never a mystery why she’s upset. I love how hard she loves. I love the look on her face when the ducks in our back pond waddle up to our back porch. I love when she sings. I love her predictability, and I love how much she loves fettuccine Alfredo with chicken. I love the way she wakes me up. I love the way she walks in the door and says hello. I love the way she talks shit about people we both can’t stand.

But what I love most of all is what I know she’s going to be.

She’s going to be an amazing mother. Anyone who talks to her for five minutes will know it. She’s fierce, and brilliantly smart, and she never quits on people she loves. She’s loyal to a fault. All of these things add up to a woman who is destined to be a great mother.

She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, and she’s the one person in the world who knows me better than I know myself.

Today is our 5-year anniversary. If there’s one piece of advice I would give to those who want to know how to make a marriage work, it’s this: put your pride aside and try to make them laugh. There are very few hills to die on. If you can do that, you’ll stay happy.

Also, fuck the haters. There were people we knew who said we wouldn’t last a month dating. I think we got ‘em beat, but we’re gonna keep going just to be petty.

I love you, from now until always. Happy Anniversary, dear.