Twenty years ago today, we each said "I do," and we meant it.
Like most people, I suppose, we really had no idea what the future held, except that we would face it together. Even at 23, I was quite serious about that; when he proposed to me a few months earlier, I asked him if he was quite sure, because I would kill him before I would divorce him.
He accepted those terms. So I agreed to love, honor, and cherish — though not necessarily to obey — forever. What neither of us expected, though, was to find that we are closer, enjoying each other’s company even more, after two decades.
With the kids out of school on Fall Break and my parents (our reliable overnight keepers of the teens) out of town, we can’t really go anywhere, but we’ll go somewhere for dinner tonight.
Maybe we’ll get wild and go dancing, the way we used to.
Maybe we’ll just find a nice dinner somewhere, laugh about surprisingly ordinary things, and appreciate that we found each other. Laughter is a big part of what works so well — we’re just enough alike, but just enough different, to find humor in something every day. It doesn’t really matter what we do, we usually have fun if we’re together.
I like that.