🎶 You and me have a better time than most can dream of 🎶

I think there is a notion that once we become an adult, our personalities, who we are, is fully baked and doesn’t change. I’m not a social scientist or in any way informed or trained to study humans and draw conclusions, but I do know that to be fully false.

Some people’s changes are easier to see. Wrinkles, gray hair, a new tattoo, a scar.

For others, the changes are held internally. Scars on their hearts. Divergent neuro pathways. Dirty cells. New DNA.

It was probably too warm inside my cozy downtown Silver Spring apartment that December evening when Justin and I met.

It was the 12th day of the 12th month of 2012.

I was doing perhaps the most Keri thing: throwing a Christmas party. The only thing I love more than hosting a party (aside from my family, duh), is Christmas. The two together? Get out.

I’d invited a small group of my favorite humans and Justin gained a plus one to a friend’s plus one. I was hesitant to extend the invite to a stranger but figured that, even though it was inside my home, I’d have a strong buffer of people who would do anything to keep me safe.

I anxiously drank too much wine and avoided him for the first half of the party. He was so handsome, smart, and funny. And I was so nervous. By the time we did get around to talking the party was fading — as was I!

After that I was out of town for work then home for the holidays. When I returned I did a fantastic job of pushing him away. All thanks to my complete and total lack of any trust in the opposite sex.

He was persistent.

Once I gave him a small opening we clicked. Since then we’ve been inseparable.

Almost 13 years since we met our lives could not be in greater contrast to those days. Our weeks back then were filled with concerts, hockey games, walks on the Mall, bottles of wine with 9 PM dinners. These days we're often (always?) in PJs by 9 and the concerts are much smaller and a little pitchy (starring our own budding performers) and neither of us drink. Our tastes have changed. Our habits have changed. Our preferences, perceptions, and philosophies have changed.

The constant has been our love.

It’s never been perfect. But it has always been us.

Last weekend Justin took the reigns as party planning lead and pulled together our favorite Charlotte-based humans (with a few out-of-towners making the trip!) and threw a combination end-of-chemo/anniversary party.

I was reluctant — if not fully opposed — to hosting a party.  

Chemo is just a few weeks behind me, but there is still such a long road ahead of me. Celebrating felt premature, a bit naïve, and somewhat selfish. And to throw an anniversary celebration in there?

This year has been so incredibly taxing on the both of us and, to be honest, our relationship. When you copy and paste “in sickness and in health” into your vows, the gravity of what “sickness” could mean isn’t fully applied. I couldn’t visualize then — didn’t even consider — a major illness like cancer and what I might do? What that might do to or mean for our relationship.

There is no pamphlet in the stack of literature your cancer starter pack comes with dedicated to managing your marriage through cancer.

When everyone you encounter comments on your upbeat, positive attitude, your cheery outlook, your optimistic nature, you start to feel like you can’t slip. Can’t actually show anything other than happy.

Until you’re home.

That’s a lot for a person to keep inside.

And it’s so much for one person to be the sole recipient of.

So Justin saw through all my self-doubt. My mixed emotions. My desire to celebrate but my reluctance to let myself enjoy the win, the moment.

And he threw one hell of a party.

It was such a special, beautiful, wonderful night. I am grateful beyond words for the amazing people in our lives who showed up to celebrate us, our love, our strength, our blessings.

One after another, friends streamed down the drive to our home and greeted us with wide smiles, warm hugs, congratulations, and so much love.

It was magical.

The night went by in a blink and I was devastated — but exhausted — when it ended. I’d pinged around from one group to the next trying to get time with everyone and didn’t get enough with anyone! My cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing, my heart was — and is — full.

As we cleaned up and reflected on the evening, glowing from the interactions, I looked around and considered all the changes, how we’ve evolved over the past decade plus.

I also took notice of how much is still the same.

Putting glasses away in the cabinet I saw a coffee mug Justin brought me from a trip to Seattle in January of 2013. I still exist on coffee and Justin still surprises me with unexpected, meaningful gestures. The party playlist is the same we used for our reception in July 2014. The Avett magnet from this past NYE concert could have easily been at home on our Navy Yard apartment fridge back then. The kitchen console at the end of the island is the first piece of furniture we bought together.

Something else that’s stayed the same is our inability to stay the same. Sometimes I wish we’d let things settle down, but then that wouldn’t be us at all.

Next up? We’re moving into a new (to us) house. Closing date is Uncle John’s birthday.

Big hugs.