Little did I imagine that on the one year mark of our wedding, my husband would be outside on the balcony trying to clean up the mess I made after accidentally starting a fire with hot canola oil a couple of days earlier.
Yes, Canola Oil, let it sink in.
The details of that story are omitted -by me- to spare -myself- deeper embarrassment; then again I by no means ever presented myself as a top chef capable of handling a deep-fry experiment without fault. Simply consider the following scene, the walls are tar-black, the new bag of cat food is covered in burnt oil remnants, and my shame sits in the corner, half panicked and deeply in love, next to the bags we had set aside for recycling. Our marriage so far in a nutshell.
I sneak out to help him every couple of minutes, and he just turns and laughs at me, his hands and forehead smeared with black pasty ash and he asks me to go back in and continue working to finish one deadline. This man understands what I’m good at and what I’m not. I shuffle my feet back to the living room, my MacBook stares back and I allow myself to think about things. Glamorous don’t you think? Something I apparently am lucky to do for a living. THINK and WRITE. And luckily for everyone else, No Deep Frying.
On this big day, the anniversary, a day I gladly remember because my iPhone saves images by date. #Noshame I write to tell you, that relationships are hard but they are also quite intricate and rewarding. They become about helping one another, caring in spite of the shortcomings and choosing to pay attention to the positives and the truths without holding a grudge, or a notebook that records all the annoying things you do. On this day I know more than I did a year ago, and less than I hoped to have known by now.
I would want to end this with a blast, but that’s a sensitive word at this time in our marriage, so I prefer to end with a splash. Until next year, let the days and experiences roll.
So, what’s your story?