Thirteen years ago today, I married my husband. These years have been colored by laughter, tears, anger, hope, joy, sadness, misunderstanding, delight, and excitment. I look back at the young girl in her mid-20s with the smart blue dress on, standing in front of the courthouse, smiling at the world before her and see the woman in her late thirties reflected in the mirror today. This woman has wrinkles around her eyes, hands that are beginning to look worn, and a belly that just doesn't want to lay completely flat, but she is just as happy as the young girl was back then. Granted, the years in between were filled with almost every emotion imaginable and there were times when throwing the towel in seemed like the best thing to do, but my stronghold was, and still is, the keys turning in the front door. Every time I hear them jiggling in my husband's hands and turning in the front door, I ask myself, "Does this still make you happy?" and the answer is still a very clear "yes".
Things I adore about H. (2010): his nose, teeth, and hands; the way he weaves words into a story; his willingness to dream and make it happen; his amazing sense of humor; his deep appreciation for the simple things in life; his sense of honor; his complete surrender to emotions (whether it be during a soccer match, watching his team win or in an airport, trying to say goodbye); his reliabilty; his devotion to being informed; his awareness of the moment at hand; his love of views; his smile; and, last but not least, the unwaivering certainty that he.has.got.my.back.