Thursday, January 23, 2014

A Decade and Counting



We met on a late spring evening doing yard work outside an old stone victorian house on the upper west side during a youth group service project. I was quietly raking leaves by myself, having been assigned to a different job than my best friend (who was one of only three people I actually knew there), when A BOY came over and started talking to me. Despite my notorious shyness around members of the opposite sex, I was amazed at how quickly we fell into comfortable conversation. We talked for the rest of the evening. When he asked for my number at the end of the night I gave it to him, at which point my best friend nearly died from shock.

That weekend he asked me if I would go out with him. I said yes. Eight months and thirteen days later I said, "I do." Today, ten years and two kids later, I still love hearing him say, "This is my wife." Seriously, it never gets old.

If I were to list all the ways my husband has made my life better over the last ten years, you'd never be able to spare the time to read it. Thanks to him I have a deeper appreciation for film, music, and hot sauce. And of course, those two crazy, wonderful children. He never fails to tell me I'm beautiful on the days when I'm feeling the opposite. He's an amazing cook, isn't afraid to watch chick-flicks, and wholeheartedly agrees that our house needs more bookshelves. He's my biggest supporter, always encouraging me to pursue my dreams and there with the perfect words when I'm feeling like I'm the worst writer in the history of novelists. He's my best friend. And on top of all that, he loves me every single day, even when I've got my cranky pants on.

Pretty sure I'm the luckiest woman in the universe.


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