|Mario and I - taken two days ago
Today I have been married twenty five years.
The day we wed, I swore like a sailor. Mario had a terrible flu and I was worried he might not make it to the seven o’clock nuptials. Why did I choose a winter wedding? Why did I choose an evening ceremony?
The day was a forecast of the next twenty five years. The less than ideal settings allowed me to see my exceptional husband rise above the terrible circumstances that threatened to steal my happiness. He married me, sick as a dog and practically fainting from fever. That night our idyllic honeymoon surroundings found us in bed, Mario shivering with fever. I fell sick the next day and thanked him for going through with the ceremony. I don’t know if I could have done it.
Somehow he married me…and we have remained best friends. Our private struggles have been scary and unsettling; our trials in public have been embarrassing. We have endured the sorrow and grief of death, hardships and lean times. We have enjoyed wealth, lavished on us by a God who loves us beyond measure.
Happy Anniversary, babe.
I love you.