My Anniversary Is Here Again ❤️
My anniversary is here again. Why does it feel like time has a sense of humor—like it speeds up specifically for married people?
I caught myself saying it out loud: “God, I need more time.” 🙏
The years seem to accelerate when you’re not looking. One day you’re young and building. The next day you’re standing in the same house, in the same life, with the same person—and you realize the calendar has turned over forty-four times since you made a vow that felt like it would take a lifetime to fully understand.
I can’t believe Ruby and I have been married for 44 years.
And what really messes with my mind is the math of it: as soon as it happens—within 24 hours—we’re marching toward 45. How cool and frightening is that?
That’s the paradox. I don’t want it to stop… but I don’t want us to get old either.
But here we are.
And I am grateful. 🙏
Grateful for life.
Grateful for love.
Grateful for the quiet miracles that don’t make headlines: 44 anniversaries, 44 Christmases, 44 birthdays, 44 Thanksgivings, and all the Tuesdays in between—the ordinary days that actually make up a marriage.
Ruby is 5’10” and gorgeous. Not a flaw. Not an imperfection. And she chose me. ❤️
Me—with my flaws, my imperfections, my hard edges, my blind spots, my stubborn “I can handle it” streak that took years to soften into something wiser.
Thank God opposites attract. 🙌
Because sometimes the only thing that can save you from yourself… is love that refuses to play by your ego’s rules.
Time Doesn’t Just Pass—It Reveals ⏳
I’ve learned something about time that nobody teaches you when you’re young: time doesn’t simply “go by.” Time shows you who you are.
It reveals your patterns.
It exposes your immaturity.
It forces your priorities into the light.
It also gives you the strangest gift—perspective. Not the kind you get from reading a book, but the kind you earn from living long enough to see the same seasons repeat and still feel surprised by them.
When I was younger, I thought marriage was mostly about romance and compatibility. Now I understand marriage is a long spiritual education. The curriculum is not theory. It is practice.
Practice in patience.
Practice in forgiveness.
Practice in communication.
Practice in staying when your feelings try to convince you that leaving would be easier.
Time teaches you that feelings are real—but they are not always reliable.
Time teaches you that the heart is not a spreadsheet.
Time teaches you that commitment is not a cage; it is a container that allows love to mature.
And time teaches you something else: nobody gets to keep life in one place.
That’s what an anniversary is, really. It’s a checkpoint on the road. A moment where you turn around and realize how far you’ve come—and then you turn forward and realize the road is still going.
The Fear Beneath the Gratitude 🤍
Let me tell the truth without being dramatic.
Part of what I feel on my anniversary is joy.
But another part is fear.
Not fear of Ruby.
Not fear of our marriage.
Fear of the reality that time does not negotiate.
Fear that the people you love the most are not exempt from biology.
Real strength is looking at life straight.
You don’t honor love by pretending it lasts forever on earth.
You honor love by recognizing that it is temporary in the body—and therefore priceless in the spirit.
That’s why anniversaries hit different when you’ve been married as long as we have.
They carry celebration and sobriety.
They remind you that what you have is a gift… and gifts are not owed. They are given. 🎁
What 44 Years Has Taught Me About Love
I’m not writing this as a greeting card. I’m writing as a man who has lived long enough to know that staying married is not accidental.
A long marriage is not the absence of storms. It’s learning how not to drown in them.
It’s learning when to speak—and when to be quiet.
It’s learning how to apologize without defending yourself.
It’s learning that the goal is not to “win” the argument; the goal is to protect the relationship.
Love includes feelings, yes. But love is also a decision. It is a posture. It is a way of showing up—especially when your emotions are not clapping for you.
What keeps a marriage alive is not a permanent honeymoon.
It’s a permanent commitment to growth. 🌱
Time, Presence, and the Quiet Miracle ✨
The older I get, the more valuable presence becomes.
A quiet morning together.
A shared look across the room.
A moment where nothing is being accomplished, but love is being experienced.
Presence says, “I’m here.”
In a world that monetizes attention, presence is revolutionary.
My anniversary reminds me to stop bargaining with time and start honoring the moment I’m in.
Because time doesn’t only measure life.
Time also invites us to be awake.
My Prayer on This Anniversary 🙏
God, give me more time—not just more years, but more awareness inside the years.
Help me not to rush past the people I love.
Help me not to treat Ruby like she’s guaranteed.
Help me not to become so busy building that I forget to enjoy what I built.
Because I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I had love… and lived like I didn’t.
The Lesson I Want to Leave You With
Love is not primarily what you feel.
Love is what you protect.
Love is what you build.
Love is what you return to—again and again—until it becomes sacred habit.
And Ruby… baby… thank you for choosing me. ❤️
Thank you for staying.
Thank you for building with me.
Thank you for being proof that God can take two imperfect humans and still create something beautiful enough to last.
Thank you for reading.
I appreciate your continued support and invite you to share this reflection if it resonated with you. Explore my other articles, videos, and poetry—each created to encourage thought, growth, and connection.
Eric Lawrence Frazier, MBA
Your trusted advisor in business and wealth
www.ericfrazier.com | www.ericfrazieruk.com
NMLS #451807 | CA DRE #01143484
📅 Schedule a consultation:
https://calendly.com/ericfrazier/real-estate-mortgage-consultation-clients
What Time Teaches a Marriage
My Anniversary Is Here Again ❤️
My anniversary is here again. Why does it feel like time has a sense of humor—like it speeds up specifically for married people?
I caught myself saying it out loud: “God, I need more time.” 🙏
The years seem to accelerate when you’re not looking. One day you’re young and building. The next day you’re standing in the same house, in the same life, with the same person—and you realize the calendar has turned over forty-four times since you made a vow that felt like it would take a lifetime to fully understand.
I can’t believe Ruby and I have been married for 44 years.
And what really messes with my mind is the math of it: as soon as it happens—within 24 hours—we’re marching toward 45. How cool and frightening is that?
That’s the paradox. I don’t want it to stop… but I don’t want us to get old either.
But here we are.
And I am grateful. 🙏
Grateful for life.
Grateful for love.
Grateful for the quiet miracles that don’t make headlines: 44 anniversaries, 44 Christmases, 44 birthdays, 44 Thanksgivings, and all the Tuesdays in between—the ordinary days that actually make up a marriage.
Ruby is 5’10” and gorgeous. Not a flaw. Not an imperfection. And she chose me. ❤️
Me—with my flaws, my imperfections, my hard edges, my blind spots, my stubborn “I can handle it” streak that took years to soften into something wiser.
Thank God opposites attract. 🙌
Because sometimes the only thing that can save you from yourself… is love that refuses to play by your ego’s rules.
Time Doesn’t Just Pass—It Reveals ⏳
I’ve learned something about time that nobody teaches you when you’re young: time doesn’t simply “go by.” Time shows you who you are.
It reveals your patterns.
It exposes your immaturity.
It forces your priorities into the light.
It also gives you the strangest gift—perspective. Not the kind you get from reading a book, but the kind you earn from living long enough to see the same seasons repeat and still feel surprised by them.
When I was younger, I thought marriage was mostly about romance and compatibility. Now I understand marriage is a long spiritual education. The curriculum is not theory. It is practice.
Practice in patience.
Practice in forgiveness.
Practice in communication.
Practice in staying when your feelings try to convince you that leaving would be easier.
Time teaches you that feelings are real—but they are not always reliable.
Time teaches you that the heart is not a spreadsheet.
Time teaches you that commitment is not a cage; it is a container that allows love to mature.
And time teaches you something else: nobody gets to keep life in one place.
That’s what an anniversary is, really. It’s a checkpoint on the road. A moment where you turn around and realize how far you’ve come—and then you turn forward and realize the road is still going.
The Fear Beneath the Gratitude 🤍
Let me tell the truth without being dramatic.
Part of what I feel on my anniversary is joy.
But another part is fear.
Not fear of Ruby.
Not fear of our marriage.
Fear of the reality that time does not negotiate.
Fear that the people you love the most are not exempt from biology.
Real strength is looking at life straight.
You don’t honor love by pretending it lasts forever on earth.
You honor love by recognizing that it is temporary in the body—and therefore priceless in the spirit.
That’s why anniversaries hit different when you’ve been married as long as we have.
They carry celebration and sobriety.
They remind you that what you have is a gift… and gifts are not owed. They are given. 🎁
What 44 Years Has Taught Me About Love
I’m not writing this as a greeting card. I’m writing as a man who has lived long enough to know that staying married is not accidental.
A long marriage is not the absence of storms. It’s learning how not to drown in them.
It’s learning when to speak—and when to be quiet.
It’s learning how to apologize without defending yourself.
It’s learning that the goal is not to “win” the argument; the goal is to protect the relationship.
Love includes feelings, yes. But love is also a decision. It is a posture. It is a way of showing up—especially when your emotions are not clapping for you.
What keeps a marriage alive is not a permanent honeymoon.
It’s a permanent commitment to growth. 🌱
Time, Presence, and the Quiet Miracle ✨
The older I get, the more valuable presence becomes.
A quiet morning together.
A shared look across the room.
A moment where nothing is being accomplished, but love is being experienced.
Presence says, “I’m here.”
In a world that monetizes attention, presence is revolutionary.
My anniversary reminds me to stop bargaining with time and start honoring the moment I’m in.
Because time doesn’t only measure life.
Time also invites us to be awake.
My Prayer on This Anniversary 🙏
God, give me more time—not just more years, but more awareness inside the years.
Help me not to rush past the people I love.
Help me not to treat Ruby like she’s guaranteed.
Help me not to become so busy building that I forget to enjoy what I built.
Because I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I had love… and lived like I didn’t.
The Lesson I Want to Leave You With
Love is not primarily what you feel.
Love is what you protect.
Love is what you build.
Love is what you return to—again and again—until it becomes sacred habit.
And Ruby… baby… thank you for choosing me. ❤️
Thank you for staying.
Thank you for building with me.
Thank you for being proof that God can take two imperfect humans and still create something beautiful enough to last.
Thank you for reading.
I appreciate your continued support and invite you to share this reflection if it resonated with you. Explore my other articles, videos, and poetry—each created to encourage thought, growth, and connection.
Eric Lawrence Frazier, MBA
Your trusted advisor in business and wealth
www.ericfrazier.com | www.ericfrazieruk.com
NMLS #451807 | CA DRE #01143484
📅 Schedule a consultation:
https://calendly.com/ericfrazier/real-estate-mortgage-consultation-clients