In a time before memory, decisions were made that caused the first weekend in May to fill to overflowing each year.
It’s particularly acute this year as we try to squeeze in our 28th wedding anniversary, our middle child’s 20th birthday, moving said child back home for the summer from college and working commencement for my day job at Oglethorpe University.
This kind of cataclysm of coinciding events did not enter our twenty-something brains when Carla and I set our wedding date way back in 1997. We had no idea that we were giving ourselves a few years of celebrating freely, though with no money to do so, before engaging in a lifetime of relegating the celebration of our anniversary to some other date on the calendar not remotely related to that magical moment when we said “I do.”
As Gandalf said in “Return of the King:” “Things are now in motion that cannot be undone.”
Let this be a cautionary tale for you who are planning life events: avoid May altogether. If you have children, everything that they do that will demand your applauding presence happens in May. It’s a thing now on the socials called “Maycember” because May is actually now busier than December.
Here’s an exemplary post:
And even if you managed to avoid the first weekend, which typically only conflicts with the Kentucky Derby, you’ve got Mother’s Day to contend with the next.
If you think a birthday on Christmas is a raw deal, just try and get away with a joint wedding anniversary-Mother’s Day celebration. In the physical universe we occupy, it cannot be done, at least not without heavy casualties, like invading Russia from the west in winter. But I digress…
We’ve managed to work everything out this year despite the confluence. We just shuffled the celebrations and ignored the calendar dates of our life history. We celebrated our anniversary with dinner out on Friday, May 2; we will devote Saturday, May 3, to Oglethorpe’s Commencement and Harris’ relocation back home; and Sunday, May 4, will honor Harris’ birthday with a special themed celebration in the spirit of “Star Wars Day: May the Fourth Be With You.” (In honor of the recent re-release of “Revenge of The Sith,” I’ll be grilling Anakin Burgers and “Darth Dogs.” (IYKYK)
So, we made it work.
I just have to be careful not to slip up and do the Star Wars thing for our anniversary dinner. You thought Darth Vader was dangerous. Just let me try to get Carla to watch something sci-fi and I’ll lose more than a hand. I’ll get the Count Dooku treatment for sure. (Again, IYKYK).
Truth be told, it’s only a problem if we want to do extravagant things for these celebrations that require multiple days. We envy couples who go away for their anniversaries. We will never be able to do that on our actual anniversary.
Over the years our expectations and standards have been lowered to the point that if we can even have a conversation on our anniversary that doesn’t involve when someone needs to be picked up or what time we have to be at a school to do the aforementioned applauding, then that counts as a deep and meaningful observance of our marital bliss.
For our 25th three years ago, we planned a trip to Asheville, N.C., for a miraculous week gifted to us by the Lord when all three of our children were in the same place that was not our home and were safe and accounted for: Passport Camp. Barron, our oldest, was a camp staffer, and Harris and Carlton attended as campers from our church. We had a great time in Asheville, but it was not on or even near May 3.
Heed my word of warning, those who look to wed in the late springtime. Avoid May. And if you’re looking at starting or growing your family, if possible, do the math and be sure the launch date is clear of May. In our defense, Harris was due in late April, but like his brothers, hung around in utero a couple of days longer than expected.
But if you do find yourself with one of the major life events in May, all I can say is may the fourth be with you. Always.
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