Fourteen Years

In a few weeks, Roger and I will celebrate our 14th year of marriage.

Whoa.



It really feels much longer than that. In a good way, of course. It feels as if his hand has always been just an arm's length away, nowhere far, always available to give mine two short little squeezes "I love you"...

And it has been a long time. Let's be honest. Today, fourteen years is a lifetime for a young marriage. When you're seventeen and eighteen when you say "I do" it's an eternity...and a miracle. But for us, it has been an adventure.

I tend to get sappy with sentiment when we near our anniversary. I suppose most people do. I don't know. But for me, I look back at all the ups and downs and marvel that the man beside me today is the same boy I met in high school. It is not possible. It's hardly even possible that I am that girl...the girl that had one heck of serious crush on the cutest guy in our group.

So, as we draw nearer to the big fourteen, I want to use this blog to pour out all the sentiment and sap, the tears and the giggles, the secrets and the confessions of what fourteen + years of mad love with Roger Cooper has been like.

You interested?

Pffft. Of course you are.

I like to start out my stories about my life with Roger, by telling people about the first time I ever saw him. It's a rather funny story, actually. You see, our co-op was having a school field trip to Washington DC for a week so that we could all get to know each other before my sophomore year of high school began. I was at one of these meetings about the trip, sitting beside my mother, very shy and awkward (I was the most awkward of all human beings when I was a teen), and I hear a boy start cutting up behind me. After a while, I just had to steal a peek and find out who this guy was. So, as quickly as I could, I turned in my seat. The boy was seated on the floor right behind me, wearing cargo shorts, legs apart, elbows on his knees...very casual. But I did not know this before spinning around and looking RIGHT DOWN HIS SHORTS!

Roger likes to tell people this is why I married him because the first glimpse I had of him was down his pants.

Pffft.

But for the record, I saw NOTHING.

So, though this might be the first time I "saw" my future husband, I don't think it counts. So, the second "first" time I saw him was when I arrived at the bus that would hike us all up to the capitol. I was a nervous wreck. When you are painfully shy, why in heaven's name would you want to go away for a week with a bunch of kids you don't know? You wouldn't. This is why the trip was a nightmare for me.

I think my mom had to coax me out of the car, my pillow and suitcase at my feet. There was a huge group of kids by the bus, and in the center of this group was a tall boy (man, he seemed so tall in that moment!) wearing a wife beater and black sunglasses. He had blond hair that looked just like Romeo from the popular Baz Luhrmann flick at the time. No joke. 

                 

But I will be completely honest about myself at the time. I was a lanky blonde girl that was shy and awkward, yes, we have covered that. But added to that mess, I stood in that parking lot with my lioness hair (it was and still is SOOOO thick) pulled into a pony tail held in place with a SCRUNCHIE, wide-legged jeans to hide my chicken legs, and a baggy t-shirt. I really wish I had a photo of this moment; you'd better understand how the two of us never should have ended up together. He was clearly the class cut-up and a bit of a ladies man (though he has always adamantly declared this to be a lie) and I was a skinny little dork. I am serious. Honest.


This is me...on that trip...with my cheeks full of grapes. Oh me. It's a wonder...

There should never have been a reason that Roger and I ended up together, but God knew that we were the only ones that could make the other happy, handle each other, challenge each other. But for a good while, we were not friends. I was a snob. He sat behind me on the bus, leaned around the seat--giving me a good view of those pretty blue eyes--and asked, "What's your name." As stupid as it was, even though I had made eye contact with the poor boy, I pretended that I didn't realize he was speaking to me. But I couldn't answer. No words would come out of my mouth. I felt a blush creeping up my neck because I knew, I JUST KNEW, he was making fun of me. Somehow. He didn't REALLY want to know my name. Right?

What a dufus!

Roger was a flirt. He was a little obnoxious but very funny and somehow found a way to be cool while being obnoxious--that takes talent. And when he started singing on that bus, I was won. That voice...

That's when the crush took root in me.

And so the adventure slowly began. In fourteen years, we've lived an eternity together...messy and beautiful all at the same time. You wouldn't believe all that God has forced us through as friends, as a silly dating couple, as man and wife, and as mommy and daddy. We have become something amazing, captivating, insane, falling apart, stitched back together, mismatched, and perfectly fit.

We've become the coolest couple there ever was. ;P More on this crazy story coming soon.

Now...enjoy the song Roger was singing on that bus. Hahaha! Doesn't this date us?



~Gia




No comments