Dear Man I Married,

I am VERY glad you are coming home from your business trip today. Let me rephrase that: I am ECSTATIC you will be here with me tonight. There is never a split second where I am not cognizant of (and made crazy-happy by) the fact that we belong to each other, which means we belong together. Please keep the heart you gave to me nearly thirty-eight years ago (the heart that was rebuilt two years ago) beating beating beating forever forever forever. And since forever begins today, and since we’ve been all over the world and back, how about a little more “back” than “world” today… (“back”, as in here at home with me). Yes, I preach accommodating accomplishment, and I think I’ve done that pretty well in our case for a long time now, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t long for you to be with me (or me with you) every minute of every day, and since this is no ordinary day (are there any with us?), I think we should be together.

I’m rambling. Twiddling thumbs and words to pass the minutes without you. I shan’t get a single thing done today. Or maybe I’ll get everything done today. In your honor. Maybe I’ll look at pictures of you. Of us. Maybe I’ll read old love letters or journal entries. Maybe I’ll wash your towels and sort your socks. Maybe I’ll wear one of your shirts. Maybe I’ll daydream at the window. Maybe I’ll never leave the bed until you’re on the other side of it. Is today really so special?

Everyday is a celebration of you to me.

Love, Me

P.S. Thank you for taking me to the top of the Empire State building and walking in the Sea of Galilee. Thank you for four children and for giving them tickles, hugs, shoes, advice, and money. Thank you for believing in the same things I do. Thank you for the food in the pantry, the clothes in the closet, the car in the garage. Oh. And the house. Thank you for my house. Thank you for your big hands. Thank you for your parents. Thank you for loving God. Thank you for making music and sometimes crying about  it. Thank you for packing the trunk and carrying my bags. Thank you for making people laugh. Thank you for caring about the dumbest things because they seem so important to me in the moment. Thank you for ignoring other things. Thank you for being Poppy to our grandchildren. Thank you for fixing the sink, the lamp, and the computer. Thank you for reminding me what time it is. Thank you for dancing. Thank you for driving. Thank you for working at your work. Thank you for grilling in the summer and roasting turkey in the winter. Thank you for being tall, blond (now silver), and handsome. Thank you for staying in touch with our friends. Thank you for saying I’m pretty even when I’m not. Thank you for helping me solve my problems, our problems, and other people’s problems. Thank you for letting me write about you (then and now). Thank you for your kisses. Thank you for proving everyone wrong about us. Thank you for growing up and not giving up. Thank you for dreaming with me and for me. And thank you, most of all for forgiving me, and for being alive, and for being well, because if I haven’t said it clearly enough…

you are all the world to me.