Blink-Blink...Pause...Blink

Five years ago this week I penned a blog post called "Blink," in which I wrote about the fact that at that time, I had been married for 15 years. Fast forward five years to this week. On June 7, Neil and I will have been married for 20 years. In case it's not clear, that's two decades. So, this blog post title captures a bit more drama than the one before. Two decades? Blink. Blink. PAUSE. More Blinking!!



What a beautiful day - and just look how red my hair was!

I recently wrote a blog post about noticing that I'm in my mid-40s, so I'll just say what everyone says at these times: Twenty years? How does this happen?

When I was young I once overheard my mother talking to a high school classmate. They were marveling at the passage of time since they had finished high school. I remember my mother saying, "It's only the days that are long." Indeed, that seems to be the case.

So, what does 20 years of matrimony look like? Three dwellings in two towns and two different states. Hundreds of thousands of miles driven between Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Massachusetts. I always said that I'd be happy to commute vast distances for education and employment, but that I'd never have a "commuting marriage." And, with the exception of this one year that I have been in Washington, we have achieved that standard. A child who is now grown and definitely on her own and who we love to watch grow into responsible adulthood. Hundreds of thousands of hours studying and writing papers, and the same number of hours for my old man in the oboe studio, practicing and making reeds. Countless trips to the grocery store together, to New Hampshire's north country to get away, and thousands of hours spent in the car together--roaming the countryside looking for pieces of history and stories about humanity. Home renovation projects that covered our living spaces in horsehair plaster dust, kitchen renovations that finished hours before guests arrived on Christmas day, and the complete remodeling of a home that left us without a stove for four months and put a refrigerator in our living room for about the same. Countless hours that I have spent running and training for foot races, dozens of maps that I drew for Neil plotting out my running routes before we carried cell phones, and probably about a hundred hours that Neil spent looking for places to find me on marathon courses, and waiting for me to cross finish lines. Travel adventures to Oregon, California, Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky, Florida, and Georgia, which easily result in a thousand photographs per trip and about as many Facebook posts - much to Neil's dismay. Two blacks labs, both with seemingly endless health problems that would eventually bankrupt us, and who required daily outings and exercise. To this list we can add thousands of hours in our gardens and surely over a hundred plantings over the years. Let us not forget dozens of trips to Hodgie's for locally-made ice cream with servings large enough to easily replace lunch or dinner. And, I wouldn't want to leave off this list the daily pestering that I provide, my terrible jokes that only I laugh at, and countless Neilisms that trip me up hourly and that leave me rolling with laughter or diving for cover. In our house there's no doubt about it: Go Big, or Go Home. That's what 20 years of marriage looks like in the Boylas family.

Me, Dorothy, and Neil in 2005

At our 10-year anniversary party.

I closed that blog post five years ago by wondering what the next "blink" would bring. For starters, I'm writing this blog post from my apartment in Washington, D.C. So, there's that - the fact that we've spent the twentieth year of our marriage living apart so that I could pursue a professional opportunity in our nation's capital. We've also recently endured a hip replacement, a small bout with lung cancer, and we've learned what happens when one chases a squirrel, trips, and body-slams into a brick patio (a--hem!)! So, it's safe to say that our interactions with the health profession have ticked upward, for sure. (I also left out the massive cut to one's thumb and hand, which required no fewer than 30 stitches, not to mention that ruptured bicep. But, I digress. Oh, how I digress...especially when Neil is 450 miles away...) Five years and change also brought me solidly back into community band, so that Neil now has to teach and answer endless oboe-related questions both outside and inside our home, and where I have volunteered him to him fix fellow musicians' horns, tune pianos before concerts, and act as informal photographer for some of my concerts. The five years brought to a close Neil's 40-year reign as first oboist in the Portland Symphony Orchestra and all of his other professional playing - a move that wasn't hard to make once the decision was made and which has resulted in Neil pursing so many of the projects that he planned for his post-playing years. The five years brought me sabbatical life, the loss of a close mentor and colleague, a Congressional fellowship, and now a move to a new university and in the new role of department head.

Neil and I last summer in the Blue Ridge Mountains
Neil and me in Washington this past spring.

I'll be heading home two days after our anniversary for some celebration and time at home. So, I guess that I'll just say it again - I wonder what the next blink will bring?

Comments

  1. All great except this was your 20th year of marriage, not your 19th. You will be now entering your 21st year!! Woot woot!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I hope your hip is functioning as it should. ;-)

    ReplyDelete

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