Tag: wedding anniversary

Beauty in the Imperfection

On 11/11, Kody swept me away to Galveston for opening weekend of the beach side boutique Hotel Lucine. We discovered it when the owner/chef of our favorite fish taco shop forever closed her doors and announced that she would be joining the kitchen at the new hotel nearby. Originally built in the 1960s as Treasure Isle Motel, there was something metaphorical and magical about new beginnings, about taking something old and making it beautiful, and about the twelfth anniversary of our second marriage.

Photo courtesy of https://www.hotellucine.com/

The celebration started a little rough, as sometimes happens in life. There was no reservation under Byers, and Kody hadn’t received e-mail confirmation. No big deal. They had extra rooms, the receptionist eventually found the reservation under Kody Kody, and we all had a jolly laugh. Sadly, their restaurant, The Fancy, would not open for a few more days, but the kitchen was serving a limited menu in The Den. Another save. After the cheeseburgers we eventually devoured, we will be back.

In the room, a cute note awaited Kody and Kody, LOL, and some gifts for us. True to mid-century style, the room was spare with no chairs. The window overlooked the balcony, sans patio. Possibly an opening weekend oversight, there was an ice bucket but no glasses. Disappointing but fixable things.

I’ll take responsibility for the wine fail. In a rush to lighten the mood, I broke the cork. The lower half plopped into our nice anniversary bottle and floated. Instead of sitting on the bed and passing our pinot noir back and forth, I dashed down the stairs, past the pool, back inside to the bar, and asked for glasses. Now we could properly toast the day.

Next, Kody returned to the lobby for the purpose of a room change, a room with a patio—and chairs—overlooking the mid-mod courtyard pool. Not a problem. After schlepping our things around the corner and settling in a few doors away, the celebration commenced. We imbibed, turned up the music, and snapped some photos for proof of good cheer.

The sky transformed with the day from overcast grey to royal blue, stunning sapphire to a velvety navy, the beginning of something beautiful.

And the best part? On November 25th, we’ll celebrate our 34th anniversary of our first marriage. 37 years of togetherness, counting those years of courtship. 39 if you count the friendship. We’ve endured epic break ups and miraculous make ups. We’ve practiced, sometimes with reluctance, grace and gratitude…faith and forgiveness…peace and perseverance…and eternal hope. Nothing is perfect, but there’s beauty in the imperfection. Sometimes you must look and behold the transformation.

Five Years Before I Said, “I Do.”

(We were totally kids and totally friends.)

I’m not exactly sure when Kody realized that I existed. For me, it’s like I have always known him. In small towns, everybody knows everybody, and we grew up together in the middle of the Oklahoma panhandle where fields of corn and wheat meet the endless blue sky.

I remember one summer day in 1984. Kody says it was winter of the same year at a high school basketball game. He remembers my pink, Converse-styled, high-top rubber snow boots. I remember sitting with my eighth-grade girlfriends a row ahead of some ninth-grade boys in the bleachers. Kody was among the boys. He tossed a snap-pop firecracker over the side of the bleacher railing. It snapped, and so did our junior high principal. He tossed Kody and the other guys out of the game. But that’s Kody’s story to tell.

That summer day, I met my friend Starla at the public pool, where we slathered on baby oil, baked in the sun, and watched boys. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Kody. His legs rippled with each step up the ladder and each bounce on the high board. He vaulted like Icarus toward the sun and flipped before his descent into the most epic cannonballs. His biceps bulged as he gripped the ladder and pulled himself out of the pool.On the deck with his friends, Kody’s golden-brown eyes and glistening broad shoulders captivated me when he glanced my way. When our eyes met again, I smiled. “You don’t happen to be going to Mark’s house, do you?” I said.

“No,” he said. “Why?” He stood drenched and dripping on his towel, and his body glowed in the afternoon sun. He slicked back his fierce dark hair, and his chest flexed.

“I need a ride home,” I lied. Kody’s good friend Mark was my next-door neighbor. The ride, an excuse to hang out with a cute boy, who just happened to hang out next door. Kody drove a 1977 white Chevy Silverado pick-up even though he was barely fifteen. My mom didn’t work, and she was home. She could’ve picked me up. She definitely would’ve disapproved, and my dad probably would’ve killed me. But my hormones dictated the day.

“No problem,” he said.

And Kody drove me straight home, where he pulled into the circle drive and slowed to a stop. I opened the passenger door to let myself out, but Kody never parked. Instead, he accelerated, completing the circle while I held on to the open truck door and cackled. A moment later and once more outside my front door, he stopped for another mock drop-off, and like a scratched record, we rotated through the drive, the scene repeating, the Silverado pausing, then rolling on. Kody’s laugh, infectious. Finally, he let me go. We were kids being kids. I giggled about that ride for days.

At the end of the summer, Kody headed to high school, and my junior high was a little less cool. But. we saw each other at church each week—in Sunday school and again at youth group. Most people probably don’t know that, but I believe God had a plan for us.

Flash forward a couple of years to our first date and three more to our first marriage and twenty-eight more through our journey of ups and downs, human mistakes and equally human reactions, break-ups and make-ups, for better and for worse.

11.25.89

Look at us. On November 25, 1989, at the Victory Center, I was a child-bride, marrying a man-child. Over time and together, we’ve learned a thing or two about imperfection and forgiveness, family and unconditional love. And speaking of love, this photograph–so much to love here: the way Kody looks at me, his little brother Thomas in the background, the fact that Hurricane Harvey tried to take our wedding album, but the photos survive and the fact that twenty-eight years later so do Kody and I.

The Deep Sapphire Blue of the Mediterranean Sea

For my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary, my dad wanted to take my mom to Israel.  Many years ago, he asked: “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”  I don’t think my dad could’ve anticipated her answer.  Mom wanted to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, and my dad set out to make her dream come true.  I guess that’s how people stay married for fifty years.  However, Dad wanted a family celebration—including my sister, brother, me and our spouses.  And his plans didn’t stop at Israel.  He planned a Mediterranean cruise of the Holy Lands for all of us.  Let me re-phrase part of this scenario.  The trip would include my parents, my sister and her husband, my brother and his wife, me and Kody Byers, my ex-husband, or maybe I should say my former husband, of nearly nineteen years.  Through divorce we found friendship once more, and through friendship we found love again.  And that’s where my relationship stood with Kody when we boarded our cruise ship for the trip of a lifetime.  Seventeen days and six countries:  Venice and Ravenna, Italy; Dubrovnik, Croatia; Nazareth, Galilee, and Jerusalem, Israel; Cairo and Alexandria, Egypt; Kuşadası, Turkey; and Patmos and Athens, Greece.  In my wildest dreams, I never imagined seeing the pyramids.  I never imagined such a spiritual experience.  And I never imagined the deep sapphire blue of the Mediterranean Sea.

Kusadasi, Turkey

On June 23, 2011, we ported in Kuşadası, Turkey, a major Aegean resort town and cruise ship port and the gateway to the renowned ruins of Ephesus. I will never forget this day.  Ever.

Our first tour bus stop: the house of the Virgin Mary, excavated in the 1800s based on the visions of a German nun.  In the scriptures, St. John tells us that Jesus, before dying on the cross, entrusted him with the care of His mother.  After the death of Christ, St. John traveled to Ephesus to spread the gospel. He probably brought Mary with him.  Now you can believe me or not, but I felt the spirit of God at Mary’s house.  Chills on my arms. A shimmer of tears in my eyes. Upon examination of my soul, I felt an emotional awareness.  I don’t know how else to explain the sensation.  We stood on holy land. 

Our tour guide explained that the spring water here is believed to be sacred, and there are three fountains:  one for health, one for wealth, and one for love.  Kody and I stood in all three lines, filled our water bottles, drank the water, and shared a kiss.

health, wealth, and love

Next to the fountains stands a wall covered in thousands of paper prayers. Kody and I wrote down our prayers and left them for God on the wall.  I thanked God for my family’s health, wealth, and love.

prayer wall

Our tour of Ephesus concluded in a Turkish rug store, where our tour guide invited us to support the Turkish economy. Silk cocoons were transformed into raw silk, spun into thread, and dyed into every color on the wheel. Weavers pushed yarn back and forth through rug backings with little tools weaving the rugs by hand.

From there our hosts ushered us into a show room. Next came the beer and wine. Then came rug after rug. Then came salesman after salesman.  Kody and I narrowly escaped the Turkish rug store without committing to purchase.  However, the rug store led directly into a jewelry store, where a sapphire caught my eye and whispered encouragement to Kody.

The next thing I knew, the ring was sized to fit my finger.  On the Holy Lands of the Aegean coast, Kody gazed into my eyes and proposed marriage again, and this time I knew without a doubt that our relationship would last forever.  The sapphire symbolizes sincerity, faithfulness, and new beginnings.  Mine will always remind me of my parents’ example, God’s presence, and the deep sapphire blue of the Mediterranean Sea.

engagement.jpg