I still do

This week my husband and I will celebrate our sixteenth wedding anniversary. Sixteen years...

Like any couple who has been married for a long time I can barely remember a time when Paul was not a part of my life. I look back at the pictures of our wedding and realize that we both looked like kids that day. I was twenty-three and he was twenty-seven and we had our whole lives ahead of us.

I wonder what we would have thought that day, if we had been given a glimpse of what was to come. The Julie and Paul who stood at that altar didn't want any more kids -- what would they have thought of the two daughters on they way? Would the couple saying 'I do' have believed that they would still be living in the same house or that it would take sixteen years before they finally took that trip to Europe?

I won't pretend the last sixteen years have been perfect. We have had our share of ups and downs but one thing remains -- I am still madly in love with the man I married.

--

When you are twenty-one years old you think you know everything. When I met Paul I was just finishing the third year of my degree (only one to go) and I was newly single. Like many young women coming through a tough break-up I had sworn off men. The plan was simple. I was going to finish my degree without the distractions of a relationship, graduate and then meet the man of my dreams and get married.

The man of my dreams would be tall, a white-collar professional with strong career prospects, a sharp dresser with a keen eye for fashion and an avid reader. He would have a taste for the finer things in life -- good hotels, nice trips. He would respect the fact that I wanted a career and would be willing to consider not having children. I wanted to live downtown -- never in the suburbs -- and I never, ever wanted to drive a minivan.

And then I met Paul.

He's not tall, he will never work in an office. His wardrobe was horrible (sorry honey, but you should choose a pair of pants for fit and not for the number of pockets). He loved to camp and brought me rock-climbing when we were dating. He was separated with a child, he lived in a condo in Kanata and he drove a mini-van. Thank God he liked to read so I had one criteria that I could point to from my precious list.

But he had a smile that melted my heart and he treated me like gold. He carried an extra pair of gloves in his pocket because my hands are always cold and I never had mine with me. He always warmed up the car and picked me up at the door. He made fabulous dinners and set up picnics on the floor complete with candles and placemats before he finally got around to buying a table for that condo in the suburbs.

He never bad-mouthed his ex and he was a great dad whose eyes lit up when he talked about his daughter. He didn't have a degree but he was smart as hell and could discuss current issues with a unique life perspective that far outweighed my university friends who quoted articles and read current events books.

For our first Christmas together he gave me booster cables, flares and traction pads. I had just bought a car and did a lot of driving between Kanata and Orleans so he wanted me to be safe. At the time I thought it was the worst gift ever, I realize now that this was a man who really loved me.

Within a year we were discussing marriage.

--

My relationship with Paul falls firmly under the heading of opposites attract.

Paul is calm and rational. He doesn't let himself worry about things that are out of his control. He understands that most arguments are not worth having and refuses to waste his energy disagreeing with people about unimportant things. He respects the views of others and feels no need to try convince them of his opinion. Live and let live.

When we first got married I found this extremely irritating. I often worried and wanted him to worry along with me. When we disagreed I felt the need to make my case and wanted to continue our debates until he realized I was right and he changed his position. I am sure this annoyed the hell out of him but he rarely lost his temper.

We fought a lot in those early years (or at least I fought) and on many occasions I wondered if our marriage would last. More than once I packed a bag as I ranted and raved, he stood quietly and watched me have my temper tantrum. I realize now how mean that tactic was and I am very, very lucky he never called my bluff.

I can't imagine my life without him.

--

Over the years our marriage has fallen into a pattern. We are a good team and without thinking about it we have taken on quite traditional roles. I am also aware that he spoils me.

One of my friends recently told me a story about her ex-boyfriend that shocked me. She told me that when they were out and the car needed gas her boyfriend would only get out and pump the gas if he had been the driver.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"If I was driving then I would get out and pump the gas," she repeated.

"What did he do?"

"He would sit in the car and listen to the radio."

"While you filled the tank?"

"Yes."

"What if it was cold."

"If I drove, I pumped."

"Even when you were pregnant?!"

"Yes. What do you do?"

"Paul pumps the gas all of the time. It would never occur to him to make me get out and fill the tank. That is one of things I love about him."

"Really?"

"Yep. In fact, I don't think I would continue dating a man that made me pump my own gas while he sat in the car. That would be a deal-breaker for me."

When I asked Paul about it later he told me that he does not see it as a question of man's job versus a woman's job. To him it is simple a) I hate the cold while he does not mind it b) he does not care if he smells like gasoline but he knows that I don't like it; and c) he does not spend the three minutes at the pump thinking about all of the dirty hands that have been on that pump recently. (Let's face it, how often are they washing those handles. Shudder) He does not see pumping gas as a man's job, he simply sees it as a job that is more-suited to him than it is to me.

It does not stop at the gas tank. Paul is also in charge of minor car repairs (although I do bring it in for servicing when it needs it), mowing the lawn, shoveling the driveway (if he is home), hanging Christmas lights, putting out the garbage and killing bugs. My cousin Kim calls these tasks the blue jobs. Again, most of these tasks are more physical and outdoorsy and Paul knows that I am just as happy to leave them to him.

I wonder if chivalry plays a role as well. Paul is very good about opening doors or giving me the last seat. Often I will wake up on a snowy winter morning to find that he took a few minutes to scrape my car before he went to work. In short, he likes to do little things to make my life easier. When he goes to Starbucks he will grab an extra 'cup sleeve' and leave it in my car because he knows I always forget to grab one and my fingers burn.

Early in our marriage I bemoaned the fact that Paul is not the man who has the fancy words to express how much he loves me. It took me a few years to realize that he says it all the time in the things he does. For Paul, talk is cheap. He makes it a point to show me how much he loves me.

--

Even as we have come to these understandings I realize Paul and I are still opposites. Last month when the Conservatives put a campaign sign on our front lawn I pulled it out in a huff put it in our front entryway. When Paul got home he said: "the sign is here."

"You want to put it up?" I asked him in shock. "Sure," he said. He likes the Conservatives.

I am voting for the NDP, I told him. He smiled. "Maybe we should get both signs," he suggested.

"Maybe we should just put this one out every other day," I countered. "We'll move it around each time and we can aerate the lawn while we're at it."

I didn't feel the need to change his mind and he didn't bother to try and change mine. In the end it doesn't really matter. We respect each other's opinions and cuddled on the sofa as we watched the election results roll in.

--

Our marriage after sixteen years is nothing like the one I pictured when we wed. At twenty-one, I refused to say "obey" in our vows and I insisted on keeping my name. We had separate bank accounts, our own cars and individual credit cards. Today Paul is the primary earner and I stay home with the girls. We share everything and I often introduce myself as Julie Gendron. If we were to get married again I would probably say obey in our vows.

Today I know that, more often than not, Paul lets me have my own way. I make the majority of decisions about the house, vehicle purchases, summer trips, our plans for the weekends and about our daughters. He trusts my judgement and wants me to be happy so if he does argue with me it is because he feels very, very strongly about the issue.

Case in point: when I was pregnant for Grace I was concerned about childhood vaccinations. I read dozens of books and articles and fretted about the formulations, the preservatives and the possible effects. I announced one night that our baby would not get the standard vaccinations. Paul didn't get upset -- he just asked if I had ever been to a country where children die of measles, mumps or whooping cough. When I said no he nodded.

"Well I have," he answered. "And my daughter is getting vaccinated." It was the end of that discussion and Gracie got all of the shots on the schedule. He had considered my opinion and he felt strongly enough about it to put his foot down. I didn't even argue.

--

Every night when Paul gets home from work I watch his car drive up and unless something is boiling over on the stove I open the door for him. He always gets a kiss hello (and our kids complain about us kissing again) and a hug before he heads off to hear about Grace and Kathryn's day at school. After sixteen years, I still get butterflies as he walks up the driveway. I think he is even hotter than the day I met him and I am genuinely happy he is home. Life is better when he is by my side.

When I get good news he is the first person I want to call. As we plan our trip to Italy this summer I realize that there is no one I would rather have at my side for this adventure. When I am sad or disappointed I yearn to hear his voice -- knowing he is there for me makes any challenge seem more manageable. He doesn't even have to be in the same city -- I just know that he has my back, no matter what.

If he needed me there is nothing I would not do for him. Nothing.

My friends have said that when Paul looks at me from across the room even a stranger would be able to tell that he adores me. When we go out he is the gentleman that offers to take my coat or get me a drink. When we walk he puts his hand on the small of my back in a way that demonstrates that he is proud to be at my side.

He can still kiss me in a way that makes my heart stop.

So on Friday morning, when he kisses me good-bye before leaving for work and wishes me a happy anniversary I hope he knows that I would do it again in a heartbeat. I hope he knows the last sixteen years with him have been a blessing that I would not trade for anything in the world.

Paul: you are not the dream man from my list but you are exactly the man I needed. I pray every day that our girls will one day find someone like you to spend their lives with. Someone who loves and respects them. Someone who does not try to change them but who helps them to grow and improve. Someone who does not try to control them but will walk beside them through every tough moment life has to offer. Someone who accepts every part of them -- even the things that they would like to change about themselves.

I love you Ginger. Sixteen years later -- I still do. There is no one else I would rather spend my life with.