Who Needs Sapphires, Anyway?

Hubby and I reach another wedding anniversary this week, number forty-four. (And could someone kindly explain to me why four has a ‘u’ in it but forty does not?)

I thought it might be fun to look at the list of anniversary gifts and symbols, something we’ve never adhered to although now I almost wish we had. Both traditional and modern lists exist, so if you’re sentimental (and rich) enough to observe both, you could be due a lot of loot.

Anniversary gifts are listed every year for years one through fifteen. After that, it jumps by five years until you reach seventy-five. That means nothing for year forty-four.

Is it just me, or does this system seem a bit backwards? I think all those presents in the first fifteen years ought to be more evenly distributed. If anything, the rewards for staying together should be heavier on the longevity side. After one year, most couples are still enjoying the warm glow of gushy romance. Some haven’t even finished writing thank you cards for their wedding gifts. They haven’t had time to break a dish or wear out a towel. Why would they need more gifts?

Studying this list, I find I’m short a lot of presents—particularly in the jewelry department. Over the last half of our marriage alone, I should have received pearls, rubies, and coral from the traditional side, diamond and jade if following the modern list. Where’s all my silver, china, crystal, bronze, ivory, and silk from previous years? And what else could “steel” imply from year eleven but a brand-new car?

At a wedding shower, I heard someone wistfully say how lovely it would be to have all new household items again. She suggested we throw showers for each other every few years, say on your fifteenth or twentieth anniversary. I nodded in agreement, then calculated how much stuff I’d be buying for others every year. If we could afford that, we could go out and buy our own new stuff.

When my mother remarried after Dad’s passing, friends threw her a “personal shower.” As we admired all the pretty and sweetly scented gifts, a friend I’ll call Lou remarked, “What do I have to do to be showered like this?”

To which someone else pointed out, “Well, first—Billy would have to die.” Billy is Lou’s husband. I’ve changed the names to protect the guilty, but I’m happy to report Lou and Billy are still alive and married. To each other.

We do love presents, don’t we? But for most of us, following the list of symbolic gifts, whether traditional or modern, would add unnecessary strain to the marriage in the form of financial debt. Some of the best marriages in history thrived without the benefits of fine jewelry, while many an overflowing jewelry box has given silent witness to the heartbreaking trauma of a marriage’s demise.

If gifts aren’t the answer to a successful marriage, what is?

I stumbled upon a thought recently that might be worth consideration. You’ve heard the old saying, “Live every day as though it were your last.” What do you suppose your marriage might look like if you lived every day as though it were your spouse’s last?

Something to ponder as we move into year forty-five. (That’s sapphire, by the way.)

Photo from Canva