Santa stop here

Thursday, December 16, 2010


One thing I LOVE about the blogosphere is the inspiration we gain from others' creativity and ideas.  Carol over at Knee Deep in Mommahood pens the most extraordinary letters to her husband and daughters.  I am always in awe of her talent as a writer and how well she expresses her feelings.  I know her family will treasure her words for years to come. Today my husband and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary, so I decided to try Carol's approach with a letter of my own.  Here's what I came up with...

Dear Michael,

Happy Anniversary.  How is it possible that 15 years have flown by so fast? Or was that fast at all?  Sometimes it seems like light years ago and sometimes it was only yesterday that I walked down that aisle on my father’s arm mesmerized by all of the guests who had come from near and far to celebrate our special day with us. We had our share of bloopers and blunders that day, but they were life lessons in and of themselves: our wedding day was not picture perfect but it was lots of fun, and we all survived.  Just like in life itself.
When Shawn escorted Aunt Martha to her seat, he took one look at the crepe paper draped across the pews, glanced around and ripped it off so Aunt Martha could enter the pew.  I guess he was supposed to escort her around to enter from the other side, but we didn’t go over that at the rehearsal the night before-I wouldn’t have know what to do either.  I remember my cousin easing out of her pew to get a shot of me gliding toward the altar.  She stepped on the train of my dress bringing me to a screeching halt.  John, our cupid and lector, fumbled a bit searching for his place and finally read the wrong reading and the show went on.  After all was said and done, as we collapsed, exhausted in the limousine, I looked at you and noticed for the first time that you were wearing your mother’s 3-rose corsage instead of your single rose boutonniere.  What did your mother have on? Then there was your dad who was in almost all of our wedding photos until Chermain pointed out that he was still standing there while everyone else was rotating in and out of the photos.  Ahh, the laughs!

I know I don’t tell you often, but you are my rock and I love you.

I sometimes complain that I have to do everything myself.  We often have difficulty synchronizing our productivity: I’m tired when you’re ready to roll up your sleeves and get to work.  You’re exhausted when I catch my second wind and feel productive. I realize you put in long hours to provide financially for your family.  I am grateful for every dish I don’t have to wash and every piece of clothing I don’t have to iron because you pick up my slack when I desperately need you to

I know I don’t tell you often, but you are my rock and I love you.

I once scolded that parenthood changes women much more than men (because we women do everything, of course).  Men would continue to work, eat and sleep whether they had a family or not.  I have come to realize that parenthood changes men, too.  You may not act all warm and fuzzy with the kids or wear your feelings on your sleeve as I do and get all crazy and emotional about things, but I can see how deeply you love us all.  It is evident when you quietly ask me if I thought I might have been a little rough on one of the kids when I snapped at them for one thing or another.  It is obvious how happy you make them when you surprise them by stopping by Wendy’s for an after school “snack” that mean old mom surely would have vetoed.  Your love for us is evident when you come home after working your shift plus someone else’s and tell us you had a good day and then get up 4 hours later and start all over again.

I know I don’t tell you often, but you are my rock and I love you.

You, my friend, are a lesson in patience from which I would do well to study and take notes.  Your ability to remain as cool as a cucumber no matter what is going on astounds me.  You are like an island in the midst of a storm.  The water and wind may swirl around you, but you are calm and laid back, steady and unchanging.  You balance out my excitability and quick temper.  You are the yin to my yang.

I know I don’t tell you often, but you are my rock and I love you.

We never chose “our song” or “our special place” but we have 15 years of memories of us as a family: the good, the bad, the happy, the sad.  I love you for eating whatever I put on the table without complaining.  I love you for holding your tongue when you come home to chaos after working long hours.  I love you for wanting me to be happy.  I love you for appreciating the things I do for you and our family.  I love being close to you at the end of the day.  I love your hearty laughter that can lighten a tense mood in an instant.

I know I don’t tell you often, but you are my rock and I love you. Happy Anniversary.


  1. How beautiful. I'm crying!

    Hope you have a wonderful anniversary. It must have been very special to have you wedding during the Christmas holidays.

    All the best my friend.

  2. This is one beautiful letter to your husband. My husband and I often fall into a cycle where one of us is tired and the other picks up the slack. It might not feel romantic at the time, but it's one reason why marriage is a such a beautiful gift. Congratulations on 15 years. I hope you have/had a great celebration.

  3. Now, I just came over here to wish you a merry christmas, and I'm noticing my comment from like two weeks ago never got posted. Darn.

    Okay, here's a recap.

    Mike is wonderful. You are wonderful. Your marriage is wonderful. Kiss, kiss. Hug, Hug. You are blessed.

    It was really much better than that, but oh well.

    Anyway Merry, MErry Christmas from the Woodards and Nana. We love you very much. Kiss the family for us!