Bronze

Last week, Brice and I celebrated our anniversary, and it was so much fun. You can see the pics Brice posted here. We enjoyed relearning the rumba,* then getting to dance it and be goofy pretending to dance other things (it turns out that collectively we could only recall waltz, swing, samba, and cha-cha—and mostly only the basic steps at that). Then we went out for sushi, and let us just take a moment to recognize the craziness that is me eating sushi. The first time I tried sushi was less than three years ago, and when I did, it was one of those really the-fish-is-barely-there sushis. And I still had to take a few calming breaths and work myself up to it. So this was the first time I ever really just dove into a plate full of lots of raw fish, and it was really quite tasty! Brice put together an epic date night.

Traditionally, each wedding anniversary has a type of gift associated with it. For example, the first is paper, the second cotton, etc. For some reason (which I no longer remember), when our first anniversary rolled around, we decided it would be fun to do something related to these traditional gifts each year. Some of them have been quite memorable: the tiny homemade paper piñata Brice made for our first anniversary; the silly cotton ball poster of a sheep I made for Brice the next year; the time we made an offer on our new house in Maryland for our fifth anniversary (wood, lots and lots of wood). Some I have admittedly forgotten (what in the world did we do for fruit?).

This year is bronze.

Many moons ago, when I was still an undergrad, I took a sculpture class in which we cast bronze using lost-wax casting. It is a long process and involves a not insignificant amount of sand and grit. You have to slowly work up the layers of the mold over the course of days and weeks. Sometimes you have to fix parts that break. There is sandblasting and blowtorching and polishing and chiseling. There is attention to detail and patience.

Ummm, yes. This is the work of a college
student, not a three-year-old.

My gift this year is not another bronze sculpture (you can see from the picture that working in bronze is not my strong point, yes?). It’s just a little verbal tribute to my husband and our relationship. It has been (and continues to be) a process. There was the shower curtain incident, my dislike of his music, that one** time he thought he was fixing my problem and I thought he was telling me I was insane (that was this week). There has been a gradual process of learning to like dark chocolate and things like sushi. He’s still learning to fold the towels correctly, and it only took me five years to figure out how to properly hang his dress pants—but at least we agree on how to load a dishwasher (mostly).

He encourages me by example to be a better visiting teacher and friend. His presence in my life has tempered my tendency toward badly placed sarcasm.*** He makes people feel welcome and befriended and appreciated—even the harassed airline ticket agent who got cussed out just before we reached her. He reminds me to be a better, kinder person.

There have been moments of sandblasting and parts that got broken. Some things are easier to fix (we just agree to disagree about music), and some may take a lifetime (oh my gosh, we are conflict avoidant), but it’s all part of making something fine and beautiful. Eight years ago, eight years seemed like a long time. Now it feels like maybe just step one or two of the process, and I’m looking forward to more.

Happy bronze anniversary (late, as always, when it comes to blogging) to my epic hubby!

* It’s been about eleven years since Latin dance class.

** “One” is a total lie, by the way. I just can’t count them all.

*** I still do it, just less than I used to.