10/15/2024
We’re celebrating our thirtieth anniversary today. I’m posting this here simply for the rest of the world’s knowledge. I’m telling my wife all the deep feelings and holding that dear between us. Suffice it to say, the standard joke has always been, regardless of the number of years we were celebrating, “Xnumber, is a long time to be married to the wrong man.” I always said this in deference to my wife, her long-suffering nature of a goober of a husband like me, and the trials we’ve endured over these years. The truth is, I might have been the wrong man, but I got the right wife. She has suffered my consistent and repeated ad nauseum jokes and stories. She has forgiven me for my many personality flaws and immature transgressions. She has been my strength when I needed a steadying hand and has given me the privilege of being hers.
Thirty years is a long time for any topic: a career, a friendship, a marriage, or a love story. Don’t praise me for any of it. Honor God first and then throw a round of applause to Sharon. She’s made a career of being my best friend on the planet, a spouse far beyond my rights of deserving, a partner in raising two children we are both insanely in love with and proud of, and the source of the most remarkable love story I’ve ever experienced. I owe her another three decades for the first three she’s blessed me with. I love you, baby. Never forget it.
