It’s been twelve years since that one memorable cold and miserable Febraury night when I met my guy. I met him in the”last place on Earth he would be,” that is his quote – a dance club in Prague. It was 80s night, but not to worry, not Czech communist 80’s, but the real deal American 80’s. Oh, wait a minute, we actually didn’t meet. That was my friend who was pretending to be French who met his friend who was pretending to be American. I went for a fresh glass of beer, not the American small size, the real big sized one, when it happened. “Hi,” he said. “HA HA very funny, are you also pretending to be an American?”she asked. He just looked at her with his big brown eyes, hands in the pockets of his destroyed leather jacket. “My name’s Jordan.” “Sure, like Michael Jordan,” she said wittily. He smiled – you could just see that he never heard that one before. That was the moment 12 years ago.
That’s how it all started, that cold snowy night 12 years ago at the last place I would never have thought I’d find my future husband, father of my future son. The truth is that I have no idea how we could both be at that place and meet there. In the jewish tradition it’s called beshert. Something that should happen, meeting of two souls that should meet… Our beshert was at Lucerna music club while Madonna was singing “Like a virgin”… I think that was the song, or maybe some other hit.
About two years later, in one small hostel in New Zealand, he asked me to marry him. After almost a year of apple picking, vineyard pruning, trekking and climbing different mountains, sleeping under a tent, living in a caravan, having a room where we had a direct view of each other on the toilet without a curtain, after surviving a couple of horrible storms, lifting a canoe that had flipped in a crazy current on a deserted river, and all of that, at the opposite side of the world. After all these, and many other trials, we learned quiet a bit about each other and knew we were ready to try it.
Ten years ago I came to New York City. Two days later, while I was still in a haze, and the feeling that everything looks like a movie set was still fresh in my mind, we got married. We promised each other in health and sickness and I didn’t even need a translator for that promise. In the last ten years we experienced a lot. We were chased and surrounded by wild dogs in Romanian mountains, we were cold with the penguins in Patagonia, we survived horrible heat in Myanmar, we climbed the Thorong La Pass in Himlaya, we suffered altitude disease in Cuzco. I learned how to live and work in the Big Apple, I even started to think about this insane city as my second home. My husband learned a lot about life with a Czech family. We have a cat together, and three years ago we started a new adventure with the birth of our little guy.
We took all of these steps together and even finally remmebered the date of our wedding anniversary. Thank you my beloved father-in-law, but I don’t think you have to keep reminding us of this date anymore. We finally got it!
This year we celebrated in a big style – our nice round 10 year wedding anniversary. We got crazy and spent the whole day at a hospital running check-ups before my chemotherapy. Yes, I know how to enrich our relationship and add some spark to it. This anniversary was even better than the one I spent on a toilet in one Argentinian hostel after a fine celebratory dinner in all-you-can-eat bistro.
Ten years married with one person is really some achievement. I still cannot believe that it has been so many years since we met. How did we do it? Honestly, I have no idea. There is one thing I know for sure – if my husband will ever get the so called mid-life crisis and chase some younger women, I will help him solve it with a nice blunt knife. There is no way he will be able to upgrade using younger material after I gave him my youth and beauty.
If it was all beshert or not, I would never be able to find a better guy for myself. That one night I stumbled upon a person I will never be bored with, a man I can rely on when there is a need, a rock for me to lean on and a funny dude that I can still laugh so much with. No, it’s not always rosy, but if it would be, how would I know what the rosy color looks like?