I was remarking to my Spouse in my morning greeting to him today when I said, “today marks the ‘last 25th holiday.”
He may quizzically wonder what I meant. Explanation after the jump…
…this one is simple.
I met the man I fell in love with (and later married) on April 25th, 1993. That’s 25 years, 9 months, and 20 days ago.
In the string of holidays (even a made-up one like today), this is the last of our 25th of that holiday. Our next holiday, so-to-speak, is our marriage anniversary, which is on April 4… but that will be “only” six years. Our next “longer-since-we’ve-been-together” holiday could be the day we met, or Memorial Day, or Independence Day, or … well, you get it.
I am an old softie and through the years, I always remember the one most fundamental thing: love.
I love my man with all my heart, soul, and everything else. And I feel the love returned.
This morning when I made my way to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before leaving for work, I saw evidence that The Spouse got up quietly during the night and filled the kitchen with balloons, flowers, and not one but three cards that he made for me.
In return, I prepared a very special meal for his breakfast and left it for him as a surprise when he rises later.
Life is short: cherish deep devotion … nothin’ like it.