Roses and Kevlar

If, on my wedding day, you’d told 22 year old me that I would be spending my 19^th wedding anniversary in the most dangerous city in America, a city within driving distance of my house, I would have laughed. Heck, if you’d told 40 year old me I’d be spending my 19^th wedding anniversary in the most dangerous city in America I would have laughed. But 41 year old me isn’t laughing. Because today, our 19^th wedding anniversary, we will, indeed, be in Flint, Michigan, touring Sean’s alma mater with Michael.

Okay, there’s a lot in that paragraph 22 year old Christy wouldn’t have believed. I surely would not believe we’d be in Flint. I really wouldn’t believe that we’d live so close to Flint. And I most certainly wouldn’t believe that we’d have a son old enough to tour colleges. Because having a child so early in our marriage was most definitely not in my plan of, “Work five years, save money, buy house, have kids.”

How God must smile at my plans.

Should be an interesting day. Certainly not as picturesque as our 5^th anniversary in Niagara Falls or as romantic as or 10^th in Paris – okay, that wasn’t so romantic considering we had Michael, Amy, my sister, her husband, their newborn, and my parents with us celebrating my dad’s final flight with Delta, but it was Paris after all! – or as cosmopolitan as our 15^th in Chicago. But we’ll be together, which is the point, right?

Right.

But for our 20^th, I’d really, really like to go somewhere not on the most dangerous cities list.

Love this candid from our reception. Of course his groom's cake was a car!