Today is my twenty-fourth wedding anniversary.
I get the oddest comments whenever people ask me how long I’ve been married. People say things like, “No one stays married that long anymore,” or “How can you stand being with one guy that long?” I just shake my head and grin. I haven’t been married to one guy that long. I’ve been married to several.
Now, before you accuse me of bigomy, let me explain. In the twenty-odd years Jeff and I have been together, we’ve both changed. Probably more times than I could count. We saw each other through our twenties as we struggled to grow up after starting a family at a very young age. We fought, we loved, and we muddled through. Those years made us stronger.
We saw each other through our thirties when we questioned if we made the right choices and struggled with the physical and mental changes that occur with true adulthood. We grew closer, each learning more about ourselves and more about each other. We also saw each other through some horrible things. Jeff was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, and he went through a terrifying ordeal when his intestines burst. I cannot even describe to you how helpless I felt and how much I feared losing him. Then, not long after, I was diagnosed with lupus. These blows could have ended many a weak marriage. But they made our union stronger, made us appreciate the fragility of life and love.
Now, we’re in our forties. Odd. I am happier with myself at forty-three than I ever was in my first forty-two years. And Jeff is different too. More relaxed, more willing to share what he thinks and feels.
So, I haven’t been married to the same guy for twenty-four years, nor has Jeff been married to the same girl. But, even after all this time, we have stayed together, weathering the good and bad.
Here’s to the next twenty-four years, God willing!