Just as we seemed to be getting accustomed to Boston life, it was almost time to return to Albany and resume the rigors of regular life. Before that, however, one more fancy dinner, this time at Amar, one of the restaurants at the Raffles Hotel – something that had sprung up without my giving it much notice in the midst of Back Bay. The entry-way provided the splash of excessive florals that I had originally been seeking for this anniversary. 

Amar was lovely, offering a bird’s-eye view of Back Bay, reminiscent of our wedding rehearsal dinner at the Top of the Hub. That restaurant has also disappeared, so out of our original wedding dining locales, only Mistral remains from fourteen years ago. 

On our way out, another spectacular display of flowers demanded a moment and a picture, then it was into the night after the sun had gone down during dinner. 

One of Boston’s bunnies, constant companions to us over these many years, wished us goodnight as it sat beneath a fragrant patch of Korean spice viburnum. The perfume of spring carried in the night air. 

Gardens glowed differently in the light of lamp-posts, such as this chartreuse variety of the bleeding heart. The evening itself gave off the sort of enchantment that only comes at this time of the year, when the ghostly blooms of the American dogwood on its sparsely elegant bare branches create an effect that is unmatched by the most splendorous of summer scenes. 

The next morning the sun was out, sending us off after another unremarkably remarkable visit to Boston – the very best kind of visit to make. Happy anniversary, Andy! Thank you for being with me on this crazy journey through life together. 

Our wedding anniversary tradition is to start the day with the cleaning of our wedding rings, which get spiffed up and shined at Shreve, Crump and Lowe, followed by a slow walk through the Boston Public Garden, the site of our wedding ceremony. In strangely glorious fashion, the moment we set foot into the garden transports us to a different world – the magical space and time when the mundane concerns of reality fall momentarily by the wayside, replaced by a happy reminder of what really matters, and what has always mattered most to us. 

Amid the occasional squawking of waterfowl and the mischievous mayhem of some overly-friendly and zealous squirrels, there is also a subdued solemnity during our time here, the same way a hush came over our ceremony fourteen years ago and no one else in the world seemed to exist other than Andy and me and our chosen guests. That special circle has dwindled over the years, as our fathers have already left us, but they were with us again on this day in our memories. 

Andy and I sat down on a bench that looked out at the spot where our ceremony had taken place. A gnarled old cherry tree was resplendent in full bloom, while a group of squirrels ran among its branches. We’ve always paused in our walk at some point, to take in the moment and the day, to remember and honor what we’ve been through, and where we’re headed. Love changes and evolves over the years, and it takes nurturing and care to keep it thriving. Here in this sacred place, we remember that day fourteen years ago… and all the days of the last twenty-four years. 

Before we left the garden, the sun peeked through the overcast sky – another little gift of the day. 

Across the street from the garden, we tried out the new-to-us Coterie at the Four Seasons. Our beloved Bristol Lounge – the site of our wedding lunch, and subsequent indulgences in their Chocolate Tower Cake – had closed years ago, but the new restaurant was lovely on a smaller scale, and we talked of how it would work well for next year’s anniversary, when we planned to bring all the living attendees of our wedding day back together while we are willing and able. 

The Public Garden had worked its romantic magic again, as we laid pans for next year, and one more dinner for this anniversary celebration. 

While today is our official wedding anniversary, Andy and I made an early long weekend of it in Boston since Tuesdays are hardly the ideal day of the week to celebrate anything. That means this entire day of posts (there are three in total, so do come back) commemorate our 14th anniversary, an unremarkably remarkable anniversary as we scouted locales for next year’s 15th. As is the way with such matters, 14 is a quieter number, but no less magical, and our time in Boston is always filled with a simple enchantment that brings us back to our original wedding weekend. 

Upon arriving, we were greeted with the bright blooms of the flowering spring trees – dogwoods and crab-apples and cherries – the typical gift that Boston has bestowed upon us rain or shine. April hints at the promise of spring ~ with May comes the delivery. 

That doesn’t mean it’s always sunny, even if it is our anniversary, and as our first afternoon darkened into evening, clouds appeared and a brief bout of rain began just as we tried to find our way to Bogie’s Place, a hidden little speakeasy and dining experience that proved as deliciously elusive as it was rewarding once we discovered its entrance. 

Passing through this colorful passageway, we were reminded that there are still adventures to be had even 14 years into our wedded journey, and almost 24 into our entire time together. It lent a warmth to the chilly descent of evening. 

An intimate dinner that began with cocktails and mocktails, and ended with a cozy plate of beignets, closed out our first night in Boston. That old anniversary magic was at work again…