Today marks 22 years of marriage to my girl. That’s a long time, y’all. I don’t know what I thought life would look like back on that cold January day in 1993, but I couldn’t ask for much more.
Here’s a post I wrote a couple of years ago. So let’s see…22 years, minus 2, carry the 1…that would’ve been our 20 year anniversary.
January 16, 1993 was the day we said “I do.” We were kids. Children. Nineteen years old, crazy in love, and convinced we were ready for the road ahead.
We’d dated for two years. Been engaged for fourteen long months. And on that unseasonably warm January afternoon, two very immature people launched into one incredible journey.
Five cities, two states, four houses, two apartments, four kids, one adoption, countless stupid dogs, and a couple of minivans later, it’s still a great journey. I still love my Merriem. If I have five minutes or five days, I’d still rather spend it with her than with anyone else. She’s the one who puts up with my corny jokes, patiently talks me down off the ledge, and consistently brings out my best.