May 11th, 1985.
Hottest day of the year and a NYC loft with no AC; rough combo.
If you were a guest at our wedding you are still trying to cool down from that one. I will never lose the vision of our best man sweating as if he were running a marathon. I will spare the rest of the details of that day and hope the rest of you will be kind enough to do so as well.
But as in most situations that spin out of our control, we made lemonade, had an amazing time and started our life together with the full knowledge that things were never going to get boring around here. And they surely have not.
We have done the better.
And sadly some of the worse.
We have unfortunately known some very scary sickness.
Yet happily we have known more extended periods of good health.
(I would like to personally thank Gary here for not crapping out on me 10 years ago to fulfill the death do us part piece)
Marriage is hard work. But it is also the person you come home to at the end of the day who you share some kids and a dog with. Who holds your hand when you are about to cry and makes you laugh, especially at the most inappropriate times. Who holds up the hose when you have a leak in the basement and shouts ‘where is this water coming from?’ and makes you care more about how funny that is than where the water is actually coming from. Who will go anywhere, anytime without a thought about if it will be hassle or not.
Life is hard. When you can share it with someone who can do a toddler dance, still wake up every day and push the damn boulder up the hill with you, knows every type of music on the planet and helps to teach your kids to appreciate it all(ish) AND is a damn good tennis player…
then it all seems a little easier.
Happy 25th G. (and PLEASE, stop telling everyone this has been the happiest 40 years of your life).
More than life itself, baby.