Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Today is my thirtieth wedding anniversary. Even after all these years, my husband can make me laugh until my stomach hurts but also make me feel like I want to put a fist through the wall. We have three beautiful daughters. Our business has taken a hit lately, but we still open the doors hopefully each weekday morning.
I owe a world of thanks to two people: my sister, Vicki, and her friend, Amanda, who was also one of my husband's best friends growing up. They called one Saturday afternoon when I was at Meredith and reeling from a crappy Friday night blind date.
"We want you to go out with this guy. Y'all will get along great. He's a year younger, but we've called everyone our age already," they said.
No way, I told them, was I going on another blind date that weekend, but they badgered me until I said yes.
When he came to the dorm thirty minutes late, I was very irritated. But he was cute and I decided to give him a chance. We went over to his house where he had a motorcycle unassembled on the very same coffee table that is in our den today.
We lived together for seven years before we got married. I think we were sure by then, but are we ever completely sure?
The traditional gift for a 30th anniversary is pearls. Over the years, he has probably given me ten pieces of pearl jewelry, so I guess he's off the hook for pearls this year. We're planning a special trip in the fall as our gift to each other.
It hardly seems possible that we've been together this long. I'm proud of us because it wasn't easy. But it has been worth it.