Dearest Lisa,
We’ve been married seven years today.
Seven years ago we stood up at West End Collegiate Church in New York City and pledged our love for each other in front of everyone. And we didn’t mention Jesus because I didn’t want to and you said that was OK. And then we walked/floated out of the church to the theme from Star Wars on the pipe organ. That ruled.
Seven years has gone so fast. People talk about the seven-year itch, but we cleared that hurdle by living together seven years before the wedding. When we got the seven year itch, we got married.
We’ve flown by the seat of our pants much of the time. We’ve trusted the Force, Luke. We weren’t sure we wanted kids. Then we decided we did. Owen was the most amazing thing that could ever be. He was incredible and we were happy and we weren’t sure we wanted to have more. Then we decided we did. And Nicholas was also the most amazing thing that could ever be. And it shouldn’t be possible for two things to be the most amazing anything, but they both are.
Now we look ahead. There will be new adventures. Uncharted territory. Not sure what, exactly, but things will change. They have, they do, and they will. And we’ll do it together.
I’m so lucky.
You are my best friend. You’re beautiful. You’re fiercely loyal. You like almost all the stuff I like (except Twitter.)
You’re a great listener. You’re an amazing lay (sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Kable). You’re an awesome mother to our kids.
We share things. We work together. I take the cans down to the street and you bring them back up. And it works.
I love you so much.
Happy anniversary, my love.
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