By Michelle (Graceful, Faith in the Everyday)
One year we spent five days hiking Acadia National Park in Maine.
Another year we kayaked around the San Juan Islands and ate freshly caught salmon at dockside restaurants.
Yet another year we bumped along a dirt road in a horse-drawn wagon to a tiny log cabin nestled amidst wildflowers beneath a looming Colorado peak. That evening I ate grilled bison for the first time.
This year we celebrated our anniversary in the backyard.
Earlier in the week we’d decided dinner out wasn’t in the cards. Our thirteenth anniversary fell on the same night as the elementary school open house. Brad was vigorously prepping his classes for fall semester. The boys started school that Wednesday. And I was putting the finishing touches on the debut issue of a new magazine at work. We had a lot on our plates.
Yet I was frustrated. We had to do something. Didn’t we deserve at least a little time to celebrate 13 years of marriage?
That’s when Brad suggested we have a quiet dinner at home, after the boys went to bed. I thought it sounded boring; I was disappointed. But what else were we going to do? Watch House Hunters on HGTV?
So I picked up a New York Strip, two ears of corn, a box of brownie mix and a vat of mint chocolate chip ice cream at the grocery store on the way home from work. Brad grabbed a loaf of fresh roasted red pepper-spinach-swiss bread at the bakery across town.
We slogged through the open house and the bedtime routine.
Brad soaked the corn in a sink full of cold water. Later he threw the steaks and the corn, still wrapped in their husks, on the grill. The rich scent of grilling meat wafted in through Noah’s upstairs window as I said goodnight.
Brad whipped up the brownie mix and slid the pan into the oven. As the scent of warm fudge drifted upstairs, the kids clamored to know why we were making brownies, and why so late, and would they get some, too?
All was finally quiet upstairs. I set the patio table beneath the umbrella, laid out cloth napkins, lit votives. We sliced into juicy steak, tore off hunks of doughy bread, sipped Chardonnay, nibbled hot buttered corn.
Candles flickered in the breeze. Wind chimes sang dinner music. It started to rain, the erratic tap, tap on the umbrella like droplets on a canvas tent, but we stayed dry, our metal chairs tucked tight beneath striped nylon.
Brad placed still-warm brownies into glass-footed dishes, scooped mint ice cream, drizzled chocolate sauce on top. The backyard was quiet, save the delicate clink of metal spoons on glass, the song of crickets from fountain grass and the patter of light rain.
This year we traveled to the backyard to celebrate our anniversary. And it was perfect.
When were you last surprised by life’s simple delights?
Michelle is a Christian wife and mother of two originally from Massachusetts now living in Nebraska. She is a part-time writer, editor and fundraiser for Nebraska PBS/NPR. Michelle loves to write about how her family illuminates God's presence in her everyday life, and on finding (and keeping) faith in the everyday. Michelle enjoys reading, running and writing. Be sure to go visit her blog, Graceful, Faith in the Everyday.