Tenth Anniversary

Tomorrow is our tenth anniversary. It’s the anniversary of a significant commitment Frank and I made to each other, not the anniversary of our marriage, because the state where we live (Tennessee) and the denomination where we are members (United Methodist) do not recognize either civil or religious marriage for gay couples.

This is the first anniversary that we have observed with a real date. There are reasons for that:

• It took us several years to come out to our four children;
• It is not easy to mark the passage of time when you don’t have a specific date, like a wedding, on which to base an anniversary;
• If I’m honest, there was a part of me that doubted we would last ten years. Not because we have any less love for one another as compared to other married couples, but because, statistically, the odds of making it this long together were slim.

And yet, here we are, celebrating ten years of married partnered bliss! Honestly, I did not intend for this post to sound as snarky and bitter as it is turning out to be. I would prefer that it resemble one of those Facebook status updates that reads, “Celebrating our ten year anniversary tonight!” The simplicity of an update like that ignores the fact that Frank and I aren’t married and that the anniversary we celebrate is a date we pulled out of the past that tells us, despite it all, we’ve made it together for ten years.

I complained to Frank about how complicated this post was becoming, and I read what I had written so far. He listen, and his quick response provided the way out from the negativity and party-pooping tone of the post.

When I’d finished talking, Frank said, “Celebrating these ten years together isn’t only about us, or about our being married or not. I want to do something with our family. It’s about celebrating our family.”

“Okay. You mean you want to have family over for a meal, like at Christmas or Easter?” I said.

Suddenly this was becoming a bigger deal than I wanted it to be. Christmas and Easter mean anywhere from twelve to sixteen people for dinner. I am gratefully for the support of our extended families, especially when I know that many gay couples do not experience that support. But I thought having that kind of event for a ten-year anniversary was a little much. Maybe we should have that kind of party for our twenty-fifth anniversary?

“No,” he said, “I mean our immediate family: Katie, Sam, Ben, Ruth. Let’s do something fun together. This is their anniversary, too.”

All right then. Way to make us both cry there, Frank.

Of course, Frank is right. Ten years ago, more or less, the six of us became a family. It only makes sense for us to celebrate the day together. The fact that we have been a family, are a family, and will continue to be a family makes those “marriage = man + woman” bumpers stickers easier to encounter. The fact that we’re a family makes those bumper stickers not make much sense.

Other than sharing a meal together, we haven’t decided what we’re going to do to celebrate the day. I have ordered ten daffodil bulbs, the tenth anniversary flower, to plant in the fall, and Frank suggested that we might buy a tree and plant it in the yard. Since I couldn’t find a good picture of the six of us for this post, at some point I’m going to haul out the tripod and take one. The kids will love that; they hate organized picture-taking. Let this serve as your warning, kids. After all, taking family photos is one of the things families do.