Today marks The Banker and my 7th wedding anniversary. Although if we were to take into account the years of friendship and dating that would eventually herald our wedding day, we're looking at something more like 14 or 15 years. Sheesh!
The connotation that often accompanies this given anniversary year is "the seven-year itch." You know, when married couples began to bore of one another and eye greener pastures? (To be perfectly correct, the phrase has evolved. Originally the seven-year itch had been known since the early 19th century as the name of a particularly irritating and contagious skin complaint...So gross all around, no?)
The thought is laughable to me on so many different levels. And at the moment, entirely ironic. Because right now it seems the need to cling to one another has never been more necessary. A shit storm seems to have hit our families and closest friends with a cruelty and force that leaves my head reeling. Here are just some of the terms being bandied about lately in our circle of loved ones: Lay-offs, The Economy, Wrongful Termination, Divorce, Infertility, HSG, Dead-Beats, Restraining Order, Falling Off The Wagon, DUI, Reoccurrence of Cancer.
So tonight when we go out to dinner and celebrate, it's with no shortage of exhaustion and weight on our shoulders. For ourselves, our families, our friends. But with it comes the knowledge that we'll weather this storm like all the others these past many years--and the sincere hope that this coming year will be a blessed respite for us and all those we love.
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