The morning of May 7, 2010 dawned in sunny fashion, and as I walked out of the bedroom and into the living room of our suite at what was then the Taj Hotel, I paused in the quiet start of the day. Looking out over the Boston Public Garden, at the fresh green canopy of trees and the swans in the distance, I felt keenly, and wonderfully, the day of demarcation from the technically-single life behind me and the married life before me. In that hushed morning, I waited for Andy to stir, and soon we would cross the street to the Garden, where we would meet up with family and friends to officially be married.
Today marks our 12th wedding anniversary – a dozen years of adventure, laughs, and love – and we will hopefully go through our usual anniversary traditions, in whatever form they might take in this new world. Having made it through the rough times, the tedious doldrums of life, and the way it wears on the best of romances – especially in the isolation of a worldwide pandemic – Andy and I have found a new respect for one another, and for our marriage. It’s a different sort of love that sustains us now, but I still feel the instant affection and thrill that I did twenty-two years ago when we first met. There’s no one I would rather share this life with, to sit in the Garden and watch the squirrels and swans go by…
Happy Anniversary Andy – I love you.
