The Anniversary Password
Pepper Scott
This cartoon made me laugh because, honestly, it felt a little too familiar.
Apparently, remembering our anniversary was never going to be as simple as writing a date on a calendar and moving on with life. Terry and I had several chances every year to get it right. You would think with that many opportunities, we would have had it mastered.
You would think.
We got married the first time because Terry was determined I was going to be a June bride. He had a vision, and once Terry had a vision, there was usually no stopping him. A month later, we had our spiritual ceremony with our family in the temple. Then we came home to our little high desert town, where our dear friends created another beautiful ceremony for us.
Three weddings.
Three anniversaries.
A person might think that would make forgetting impossible.
That person would be wrong.
Somehow, both of us managed to miss it more times than I care to admit. It became a little game between us. Who would remember first? Who would get to say “Happy Anniversary” before the other one realized the day had already arrived?
Terry would be so disappointed when he lost. He would shake his head and laugh because he really did try. I eventually decided I needed a little help, so I put it on my work calendar.
A brilliant plan.
Except somehow, even with my carefully placed reminder, I still managed to miss it more often than Terry did.
Ha!
The funny thing is, none of that ever mattered to us. The date was special, but the everyday moments were where we found our joy. The quiet mornings. The silly conversations. The ordinary days that somehow became the best days.
Because Terry always had the perfect way of making up for a forgotten anniversary.
He would look at me and say, “Every day we are together is a honeymoon.”
And there it was.
The whole secret.
The password.
Love was never hidden in a date.
The one person who always remembered our anniversary was our Sister Sue. I have no idea how she did it. Somehow, she never missed. Some years, she would call and wish us a Happy Anniversary before Terry and I even realized we had forgotten it again.
That woman has a better anniversary memory than the two people who actually got married.
I always believed one of Terry’s greatest gifts to me was bringing Sister Sue and me closer together. Through him, I gained a big sister. Not just someone who remembered a date, but someone who showed up with love, kindness, and a steady presence.
I am forever grateful for her.
Today would have been our 25th anniversary again.
And yes, I almost missed it.
Terry would be laughing so hard right now.
I can picture that little grin, the one that said he already knew he had a good story to tell about me. He would probably remind me that I had all those ceremonies, all those chances, and still somehow needed help from Sister Sue.
He would tease me.
Then he would say something sweet.
Because that was Terry.
He understood something I am still learning.
The best celebrations are not always marked by a date circled in red.
Sometimes they are found in the small moments scattered through the seasons of life.
A shared laugh.
A familiar voice.
A love that keeps blooming, even after the calendar page has turned.
Happy Anniversary, Honey.
I remembered this time.
Mostly. 💛
