It was our eighteenth anniversary.
We went to dinner at the kind of place we only go on special occasions; Velvet curtains, golden lighting.
We laughed a lot. We always do.
We talked about all that had led up to that day, facing each other in that room in our wooden seats.
We had spent part of the day looking through our wedding album with our girls.
We had been married in a tiny country church.
After we had said “I do” to the unknown
we’d made the church bell ring.
On one side of us at the restaurant sat a woman who was eating alone.
She smiled, clearly overhearing our conversation.
I noticed her simple dinner,
and methodical way she ate.
On the other side, a trio of men discussing the wine selection, and which they’d choose today.
I heard them speak of vacation homes,
and available real estate.
They ordered an expensive bottle of wine.
Then they ordered two.
About fifteen minutes into being seated there, surrounded by paths we didn’t choose,
in came a large group, bursting with young children.
One father carried a baby in a front facing carrier, with a toddler on his shoulders as well.
As he passed by me looking rather wilted, I told him that they looked like the cutest totem pole I’d about ever seen.
The parents all looked tired.
I remembered when that was me.
The kids looked like dinner absolutely could not wait. Some fussed. Two cried loudly.
The dad said he was sorry to the entire room as he did the Attempt to Soothe the Baby dance and tried pointing at everything.
I sat starry-eyed watching them;
Lost in my remembering.
Not long ago, that was us, too.
Crayon cups and Saltine packages,
attempting to placate.
Looking under the table after dinner,
sea of crumbs, asking for a broom.
I smiled and told one flustered father I’d hold them all if I could while the parents ate.
The dad said he’d gladly give them to me.
I looked at Justin then, who’s been missing when the girls were small, and could tell he was thinking back on it all, too.
His eyes looked misty.
They do a lot.
Now that he’s about to be a “Pops” he softens faster than he used to before our own children came.
The noise at the kid table sent the single woman away.
She took her to-go box, and shot a pointed glance the children’s direction, but I just sat there listening and watching every full-of-life thing.
On this side of life even the struggle has its own beauty:
The tired whining,
the messy faces and wind blown hair,
the parents trying desperately to entertain.
Before long I had tears in my eyes watching them and remembering, but what I didn’t realize was that while I looked back on our past life,
Justin was watching me.
He saw my eyes rimmed with what to me was just sweet memories.
He asked me what was the matter,
and if I was OK.
I told him I was more than OK, because
in that moment, on our 18th anniversary,
in the middle of the clinking glasses and chaos,
I was seeing us for what table WE were in this life that we have made.
I saw that we focused on the family, and the children, and still stayed focused to this day.
Not only our own privacy and comfort,
not on the day’s best pairing;
But we were the table, when little eyes looked over, whose lips curled in a smile, and whose fingertips slowly waved.
I thought about how we choose the full,
bustling Table of Life for ourselves every day.
We have spent eighteen years agreeing that
family – the very essence of it – ALL of it –
is everything.
“You know you can’t grab one and run with it, right?”
Justin interrupted my thoughts,
knowing how much I love the children.
A crooked smile was on his face.
“I can’t be chasing you out of a restaurant screaming, ‘HOW ARE WE GONNA EXPLAIN THIS, KERRI,’ on our anniversary.”
I laughed and just looked at him smiling,
knowing he gets me.
I loved our table so much then, in the midst of everything.
It was like I saw us from above in every moment of our lives together, from that moment in that restaurant, back to when we made the old church bell ring.
We have lived a life together worthy of fond remembering.
I am so grateful that, eighteen years later,
he is still the one sitting across from me.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
