First Anniversary

What a difference a year makes.

On Friday, E and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. A year ago, we waded through government bureaucracy, trying to get the necessary paperwork to actually get married. This year, we waited for almost two hours in line to apply for Turk’s passport—only to have our debit cards erroneously rejected. Hmm, maybe life hasn’t changed that much.

After talking with one of my coworkers, I decided to surprise E with Turkish tea for our anniversary breakfast. I went online and bought a teapot, tea leaves, olives, and some other Turkish goodies (I also made an authentic Turkish dinner that night). He hadn’t had tea, which is like water in Turkey, for six months, and I enjoyed E’s surprise and joy.

He got me my favorite flowers (with assistance from my sister), so I think we both enjoyed our anniversary.

E reminded me recently that in the last year, he’s gotten married, had a baby, moved to a foreign country, and quit smoking (mostly). He never planned on doing the last two, and I am overwhelmed with the changes he’s made for me and our little family. Because I’m a romantic schmuck, let me share ten reasons why I love my husband so much:

• E is committed to always eating as a family. Even though I work until after 9 pm twice a week, he always waits for me to eat dinner together.

• E loves his country and especially loves Trabzonspor, his football/soccer team. I love the joy he feels when his team wins (I don’t really love how grumpy he is when they lose, but I love how he yells at the computer while he watches the match).

• E is an incredible dad. Even when he’s working part-time and going to school full-time (20 hours of class a week!), he never complains about taking care of Turk for over 20 hours a week. I can’t imagine any other Turkish man doing this (and not many American men, either). I can already see what a strong bond he and Turk have because of the one-on-one time they have together.

• I’ve mentioned before that E doesn’t care about his appearance when he’s at home, and I love that self-confidence. He routinely wears my clothes and shoes. Friday, I caught him wearing my Mary Janes. Oh my! He said they were really comfortable.
• E loves my family. He calls our brother-in-law his big brother and our nephew his little brother—huge compliments in Turkish culture. He always plays with my two tiny nephews, and he even calls my mom “Mama.” I love it.

• Anyone who reads this blog knows E loves animals, but he never realized it until he moved into my parents’ zoo. Turks don’t have pets, so he never knew how much he loved animals. I can’t help but wonder how his life might have been different if he’d had an animal to love and love him during his childhood.

• Sometimes E will bust out gigantic vocabulary words when we’re talking. I love it. But for some reason, he insists on calling ears “earrings.” I love that, too.

• I love the pleasure E takes in simple things. He laughs riotously when we watch the stupid game show “Wipeout.” He can spend hours playing with his phone and camera. I suspect it comes from growing up in poverty that such small things bring him such great joy.

• E is incredibly self-conscious about his body. He’s convinced he’s developed a huge gut since moving to the US. I love that he worries so much about his body but never criticizes my actual huge gut. He particularly worries about his scars, but I love them because they remind me of his strength and how far he’s come.

• Finally, I was first attracted to E because he was one of the few people I met in Turkey who saw me and not just a foreigner. He sees who I am inside and out and understands me in a way no one ever has. He understands me better than I even understand myself. I love that about him.