Three years ago today, we made some pretty huge promises to each other in front of a mass of our family and friends. At the time, I don't think either one of us really knew what we were in for, but we knew we wanted to do it together.
And that's all that mattered.
We've had some momentous life changes since then. First Toby, then our fixer-upper house, then Allison. With each addition, we've accrued a heaping truckload of responsibilities, but we make it work. Sure, sometimes the dirty dinner dishes sit on the counter overnight, but that's because we looked at each other, smiled and said, "Screw it. Let's do something fun."
And whether we take a walk, watch a movie or get ice cream, I never regret it the next morning when I'm dealing with hardened barbecue sauce remnants and a pile of crusty utensils. I just smile because putting off the mundane tasks to share a laugh with you is always worth it.
For Mother's Day, my mom got me a book of advice "Mother to Daughter." In it are single thoughts for moms to help them raise amazing women. Every once in awhile, I flip through it for inspiration, and the one that stands out most in my mind is this: "Be good to your partner. It will shape the way your daughter grows up and forms relationships."
It's so obvious, but it really made me stop and think about what I'll tell Allison when she's old enough to start dating seriously. (You know, when she's 30.)
After much consideration, I've decided that I'm going to advise her to find someone who makes her laugh. Really laugh. In good times and in bad. In sickness and in health. For richer or poorer. 'Till death do you part.
Because of all of the things that I love about you -- your overtly caring nature, your insane work ethic, your resolute desire to make me happy -- the one I appreciate most is your ability to make me laugh. It doesn't matter if I'm feeling my worst or we've hit maximum capacity in the stress-level department, before I know it, my storm cloud is momentarily lifted when you're around. You're probably adding years to my life because of it, which just translates to more opportunities to leave dirty dishes on the counter.
Of course, there are times that we can't ditch our responsibilities. Ever-present bills, laundry, mowing and grocery shopping will kill even the most steadfast honeymooners. But you know what? With all of our little creatures underfoot and added household necessities, you've become such an amazing husband.
Just this week Allison got her first cold. And when I called you at work to say I had made her a doctor's appointment for later that afternoon, you didn't even question whether or not you'd come with me. It was just a given. I don't think I ever tell you enough how wonderful it is that you participate so fully and completely with our family.
We had to drive separately so I could go to work afterward, and as we kissed goodbye in the parking lot -- probably even a little inappropriately, but whatever, people can deal with it -- everything felt right in the world.
When you got in your car to drive away, you said, "I couldn't do this with anyone else, ya know."
I do know. I couldn't either.
So, for our anniversary, I want to let you know I still feel the same way as I did on our wedding day. I still just want to spend time with you. To share and do things with you. To revel in our memories and look forward to creating new ones.
And that's all that matters.
All my love,