20 years ago today I met my wife’s gaze for the first time. And I knew I was home. What followed was one of those magical moments that only happens in the movies. She walked over and asked me “Can I give you a compliment?”. I wasn’t sure how to answer that, but I’m so grateful she didn’t let my insecurities stop her.
My wife is brave and strong, but also sensitive and vulnerable. She’s smart and kind and funny. An incredible mum. And I know for a fact that she’s an amazing teacher. But to me, more than anything, she’s home. She’s where I can breathe and just be me. And she has been for 20 years. That’s more than half of my life. And what a life it’s been together.
We’ve made five different homes together. Shared 13 of the years with our dog. We’ve gone through rounds of IUI, from which we had two amazing boys. Some of the people we loved have left us, and we’ve been fortunate to meet a lot of people who have become dear to us. We’ve traveled, hiked and camped out in breathtaking locations. And even though we’ve had our fair share of arguments and low days, I’ve never doubted that we belong together.
We’re not the same after 20 years. Luckily I would have to add. We’ve grown. Taken new paths, walked ten steps forward and five back. But the core remains the same. The feeling of being home together.
20 years from now I hope to look back at more growth, more love and more life together.
