Bad Omen, Dude

Tamara & Jim
Originally uploaded by Tamara Irminger

Today is Jim’s and my 13th wedding anniversary. Yes, lucky number 13. I know there are some that think that the number 13 is unlucky and that maybe we should just let this year slip quietly by and not bring attention to the fact that we have now been married for 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13 years! But I’d like to point out to the universe that the “bad omen” that was predicted by a car mechanic on the way to our wedding, never materialized. My 13 years of marriage can be perfectly summarized in the series of events that led up to our wedding day:
October 4th, 1996
As we were driving up to Marrowstone Island, where we were to be married at my grandparents’ home, our car experienced some mechanical difficulties. We were just outside of Vancouver, WA on I-5, it was pouring down rain, Jim’s mum and sister were driving up with us, and we had that evening’s dinner of lasagna in the back. After pulling off for gas the car decided that it had had enough, thank you very much, and just quit. Jim called around for some tow-trucks and after 30 or so minutes some local-yokel towed us back to the outskirts of Vancouver to a repair shop. I was not yet panicking. I had my future in-laws with me and I didn’t know them AT ALL. I figured I would keep calm and that it would all work out. I guess I never really considered that we wouldn’t make it to my grandparents that night, it never seemed like an option. I went to a nearby burger joint with Helen & Mary Ann and we ate greasy food, marveled at the downpour and got to know each other a little more. Meanwhile, Jim was at the auto shop and the part we needed was not in stock. When Jim explained that not getting the car repaired until the following Monday morning was acceptable because, ahem, we were on our way to our WEDDING, which was to be held the NEXT DAY and we had dinner for all our wedding guests who were arriving THAT NIGHT in the back of the car. The mechanic responded by saying, “Bad omen, dude.” And so it could have been. But it wasn’t. Not in the least. Some calls were made, the part was found and within 2 hours we were back on the freeway. Thinking we had avoided a major uh-oh we were feeling pretty great by the time we arrived at my grandparents. What else could go wrong? As Jim handed a lasagna pan to my grandmother for her to heat, it was dropped in the exchange and lasagna ended up on the kitchen floor. My grandmother, bless her heart, didn’t miss a beat and exclaimed, “I just cleaned the floor, put the lasagna back in the pan and throw it in the oven.” And so we did. It just felt like a big exclamation point after the “bad omen, dude.” We laughed and laughed and ate heartily that night.
We had planned on starting our wedding ceremony at 11am the next day, but postponed that time, because my sister fell ill (not lasagna related) that night and ended up in the emergency room. After being pumped full of fluids she was released later that morning and so we lazed around with our 15 wedding guests and told them we’d have the ceremony at some point that day. That gave me and Jim time to finish writing out our wedding vows and go over the ceremony with the official who was to marry us. He was also the local tavern owner and he said if we got married in the tavern it would be free, otherwise he charged $40 to come to my grandparents, but he wore a tuxedo…Cool. We gave him the $40 and told him to come by around 1 pm. The ceremony itself was lovely and such a perfect reflection of Jim and me. We read poetry, shared our dreams, lit candles and avowed our love and commitment to one another. My grandparents filled the house with dahlia bouquets, the sun came out, the Olympic mountains loomed large in the background, and the resident bald eagle made a pass overhead. After the ceremony we all walked down the street to the Ecologic Place where we enjoyed great food, wine, and stories.
And thus goes the past 13 years with Jim. It has been a wild ride with lots of ups, downs and loopy-loops, but every time that car comes to a stop we yell, “More!” and off we go again. We are so balanced, the two of us. He is the exclamation to my comma; the arc to my line; the fire to my water; the spontaneity to my predictability; the color to my grey; the numbers to my letters and every day I think, “Dude. You’re the best omen that ever happened.” Happy anniversary my sweet!