How To Celebrate A Fifth Wedding Anniversary

Five years ago, I woke up in my childhood bed. A full-sized bed, decked in faded flowers. The bed on which I used to scatter my notes to study. The bed on which I used to sit with friends and gossip. The bed which I used to share with Sister C every Christmas Eve. You see, when I went off to Yale, C inherited my room. When C went off to Yale, T inherited her room. One after one, we Donnelley girls graduated from that room full of old pictures and books and trophies to much smaller dorm rooms on a certain New Haven campus. One by one, we graduated from that bed, that tall iron bed decorated in white Christmas lights year round, to much smaller beds where we spent our collegiate slumber.

Five years ago, I woke up in that bed for the last time. It was my wedding day. Per tradition, Husband and I had spent the night apart. It was a mild December morning. I woke up early and I just stayed there, under the cloud of covers, looking out the window onto the street I grew up on. I studied the naked branches of the trees. The windows on homes across the street. I looked at the ceiling. My shelter for so long. I stayed there in those moments, giddy with anticipation, on the brink of big change. Good change. Exquisite change. 2010's Most Questionable Wedding Trends

I spent the morning surrounded by my family and best friends. We all nibbled on pastries and took turns getting our hair and makeup done. We played Christmas music. When the time came, I descended the steps to the parlor level of my parents' home. And there it hung. My dress. My big dress. Champagne duchess silk with rich embroidery and a splash of color. Two turquoise beaded doves kissing on the back. Wedding Planning 101

Sister C helped me step into my dress. We did this slowly so the photographer and videographer could get good shots. And I am glad we did this slowly. Because in that moment, I remember staring at the fat Christmas tree up front. The rainbow lights shining bright. The ornaments we loved dangling from branches. When I was in the dress, I twirled around a bit as my bridesmaids snapped pics. And then I saw it. The quote Dad loved so much, he had it framed and displayed.

"Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made."

I always loved that quote too. Dad and I had several conversations about this quote. About the crooked complexity of life. I always thought that Isaiah Berlin said these words, but turns out it was Kant. Anyway, I remember glimpsing those words on that day. I remember noticing them. I think so at least.

I just Googled "fifth year anniversary" and I was touched to see that it is the wooden anniversary. I do not have a wooden gift for Husband, but maybe I will print him that quote, timeless and true, and hand it over. That counts, right? Making Love the Gift