Tomorrow, Tuesday, is my 8th wedding anniversary. Eight years of being married to my soul mate, literally the man of my dreams. Eight years that, despite the occasional (or more than occasional) trauma, have sped by like lightning. The most wonderful eight years of my life, in fact.
In those eight years, he's been with me through five years of college (his), four pregnancies (mine), three debilitating injuries, two career changes, and the death of one child. He's been with me in the emergency room and the Phantom of the Opera room, 3000 feet in the air and 30 feet under the sea, laughing so hard the tears ran down our faces and crying so hard that the tears ran out...
How do you thank someone for that? For being the perfect spouse? For loving you exactly the way you are, even when the way you are is ugly, angry, whiny, hopeless, helpless-- or unemployed in Greenland? And for all the while assuring you that you are in fact the most beautiful, lovable, wonderful human being they've ever met? In short, for being completely, certifiably crazy?
As long as he's crazy about me, I'm happy. And he is. And I am. And we are.
Happy Anniversary to the most wonderful husband in the world.