I just this moment — 6:10 pm, central time — realized that today is the 25th anniversary of the day I met the person to whom I am married. Aka The Husband.
We began living together about six months after we met (hey, I was 30; he was 43; we more or less knew what we were doing), but only got married ten years ago. S
o we’ve always celebrated the day we met rather than our wedding day. Now, why did I forget the day?No, not because I’m a bad wife. Indeed, I’m The Perfect Wife. (I’m kidding, I’m kidding, for god’s sake!)
Because as is typically the case in early June, he’s in Europe today. (Attending an annual conference which, yes, happens on/around June 9.) And he’s been gone for fifteen days (first he went to Bilbao, than to London to see not the Queen but our kids), so, ya know, I’ve just been here at home, by myself, working away on my book, oblivious as to the world around me. Including oblivious to the day of the week.
Which is how I realized it was our anniversary: I wondered what day of the week it was.
Figured out it was Tuesday and then, out of curiosity, wondered what the date was — and, whoops!, realized it was June 9.
Anyway: to my husband — my dearest friend, most loyal companion and supporter, the one person who loves me just as I am — I say: It’s been a lovely ride. Here’s hoping for twenty-five more go-rounds. (Although, ahem, given our age, I doubt we’ll make it. So let’s enjoy it while it lasts.) U
PDATE: I realized as I clicked “publish” that not only is this the day, but I wrote this post to the minute almost of meeting him. We’d “met” via the personals (which back then meant exchanging real letters), then on June 9, met for our first face-to-face, which consisted of: Hotel bar in downtown Des Moines (I had a gin and tonic; not sure what he drank), and then we went to see “Liquid Sky.” (Short plot description: Aliens from outer space need endorphins released during orgasm.) (I can’t make this stuff up.) (My candidate for prize for Wierdest First Date Ever.)