Slices of Life: Our Twentieth Anniversary

Written by Belmont Patch columnist Lisa Gibalerio

On a freezing Friday night in February 1993, I met Kevin Cunningham, the man who would become my husband. 

As it happens with these kinds of encounters, I had come very close to staying at home that night. But I had promised a work friend (my future husband's sister) that I would meet her at this event, and so I begrudgingly ventured out into the bitter cold.

When I think back on that night, the details are a little fuzzy. I remember we talked and he struck me as intelligent, intense, funny and kind. There was some dancing. He and I danced (to The Cure’s Hot, Hot, Hot), and then he danced with another woman. At that point, it was getting late, and I decided to go home. As I was putting on my coat, he sought me out and asked if I would stay a little longer. We found a table and began a conversation that hasn’t yet ended.

Kevin and I became engaged that May and married in November of the same year.  It was a whirlwind romance, to say the least. And more than a little out of character for me, someone who doesn’t tend toward spontaneous evenings out, let alone hasty lifetime commitments.

I bring this all up because tomorrow marks the 20th anniversary of our wedding celebration. Twenty years of wedded bliss, right? Ah, if only that were how it works.  While there is no such thing as happily-ever-after, maybe though, it’s the not-so-happy parts that actually make the happy times sweeter.

As I reflect on the institution of marriage what strikes me most is how completely hopeful it is. It oozes hopefulness. I had no idea when Kevin and I decided to get married if what we felt for each other would stand the test of time. All I had was a bit of hope that it might. Or to paraphrase author Anne Lamott, I hoped “there might be enough grace and forgiveness and memory lapses to help the whole shebang hang together.” Marriage is the ultimate leap of faith.

The early years were among the toughest for us. How could they not be? We hardly knew each other. We were adjusting to all the many things couples adjust to; how to share household responsibilities, how to manage money, dual careers, graduate school and each other’s families and how to spend holidays, all while adjusting to each other. Our first Christmas as a married couple was also our first Christmas together, ever.

Just as we hit a plateau and figured we had some of this marriage stuff down, we went ahead and introduced into the system three kids in under five years. It’s like we were ready to take the training wheels off but decided to jump aboard a Harley instead of a two-wheeler.

Having children definitely changed things. From that point onward, instead of struggling with the ups and downs of marriage, we struggled with the ups and downs of co-parenting on top of marriage. All of this you can’t possibly know back when the vows are exchanged.

And somehow, in our case at least, the shebang has hung together. The years have piled up, yes, jobs have been lost, parents have died, children have faced bitter disappointments, but, and here’s the good thing, we didn’t have to go through any of it alone. Each of us has ended up bearing witness to another life. The wisdom of these years has taught me to savor the good stuff, persevere through the hard stuff and embrace this life we created together.  

In one of his last interviews, Paul Newman was asked to share the secrets of marital success. After all, the actor had remained happily married to Joanne Woodward for 50 years and in Hollywood, of all places. He shook the question off and replied something to the effect of “What do I know about marriage? What does anyone know about something so private?”

Yup.  I don’t know anything either.  But, to paraphrase Dickens, we sure do go through a lot in marriage to learn so very little in the end.

Here’s what I do know: I’m grateful I ventured out on that frigid February evening.  Life is hard, parenting is hard, but having Kevin by my side has certainly made the journey a lot more fun. Like with all relationships, we have had our share of struggles and disappointments, but there has also been a steady undercurrent of laughter, support, friendship and love.

Twenty years since we stood at the altar in Harvard’s Memorial Church and exchanged vows, I can’t help but wonder what the next 20 years will bring.