My husband and I will be celebrating our 11th wedding anniversary on November 11, 2011. Yes, we're hitting 11 on 11/11/11.
Someone told me that I should play the lottery (like no-one else will be working 11-11-11 today!). Gambling recommendations aside, the confluence of elevens seems to portend something — good or bad, I do not know.
When we chose 11/11/00 as our wedding date, we didn't think ahead to the fact that our 11th anniversary would fall in 2011. We just took the first Saturday available in November — a month when catering hall and honeymoon rental rates dropped precipitously and fortuitously for our then less-than-robust budget.
At the time, folks were more interested in the curious fact that we had decided to seal our mutual fate on the traditional date of Veterans Day. It's a fact that has been met with more jokes each year as the length of the marriage grows and our "veteran" status increases. Lots of allusions to marriage as war, and spouses as the walking wounded. It's all very amusing (well, not really), but it always makes me uncomfortable in light of the ultimate sacrifice made by so many real veterans.
Now, with 11/11/11 approaching, we're much more horrified to find that our special anniversary is a great marketing ploy for a horror movie: My colleague in Montclair is currently being released on Friday, titled simply "11-11-11." The film predicts that the day will see the opening of a portal into Hell. The trailer features a voiceover proclaiming: "On this day, innocent blood will spill."
Well, okay then.
Desperate to find a more positive spin, I started googling numerology and found this on the website Whats-Your-Sign.com (I know, I know — it sounds more suitable for finding information related to new age speed dating than to a wedding anniversary):
The number 11 carries a vibrational frequency of balance. It represents male and female equality. It contains both sun energy and moon energy simultaneously yet holding them both in perspective separate-ness. Perfect balance.
Now, that's more like it! The lingo's a little hippy-dippy for my taste, but, make no mistake, it's much, much better than that opening-the-portal-into-hell stuff.
But seriously, as our 11th anniversary arrives, I'm much less interested in the elevens than in the fact that I am married to a wonderfully smart, handsome, funny, kind, talented (he can do carpentry and electrical work and cooks like a Food Network star) and loving man — who, by the way, is the father of our two heart-poundingly lovable children.
I know that one can never get smug about three things: your health, your children's behavior and your spouse's continued affection and presence in your life. But, fingers crossed, we've made it through sleepless babies, screaming toddlers, family vacations, emergency room visits, a keen knowledge of each other's bizarre personality quirks, and sharing a bathroom for 11 years. I'm feeling somewhat confident about making it to 12.
Eleven years on 11/11/11.
Someone said I should play the lottery.
But I've already hit the jackpot.