7/11=19

If you are wondering about my math skills after seeing that title, don't worry, it will all make perfect sense soon.

You see, 19 years ago, on 7/11/1992, I got married. I was 20 years old. He was 21. We had known each other since I was in 5th grade and he was in 6th. We had been dating for 3 1/2 years not counting the middle school crush and silliness. We were both in college. We both lived at home. We were oh so young. And oh so in love. So on that 11th day of July with the sun shining and me in my JC Penney wedding dress, we said, "I do." And have been saying the same thing every day for the last 19 years.

We have been through the poorer more than the richer and our fair share of sickness. But the better has still outweighed the worse by a long shot. We have grown up together. Not just our shared childhood, but since we've been married. At 20 years old I felt plenty old enough to get married, but now when I think back I was still so very young. We were both in college and working close to full time. It was a busy time and a wonderful time. For 7 1/2 years it was just the two of us. Frankly it's hard to remember, or even imagine, those years before kids. It's all kind of a blur of growing and learning and becoming a wife. And being happy. Almost as happy as I am after 19 years.

And if I had to do it all over again, I would still walk down that aisle and say, "I do." I would hold his hand and know that he was my lobster. I would smile knowing what was to come for us. I would kiss him longer and not worry about what the old people thought. I would enjoy every second because I would know that that day was just the beginning of something wonderful.