A letter to my love on our 10th

To my husband on our 10^th anniversary:

Remember when we used to kiss at every red light?

Sometimes we looked around at all the other couples in cars just staring straight ahead or talking angrily, and we couldn’t imagine not being the way we were. Attached. Together. Happy.

We loved to go for long walks, holding hands along the way. We’d snuggle on the couch watching Alias, slurping on homemade smoothies. We played fierce games of ping pong and sometimes Rummikub, or Mastermind. You made the absolute best margaritas and nachos—a Sunday favorite. We loved long bike rides with the promise of a snowball at the end of the trail. Crab dip was our go-to appetizer and we probably ate out every Friday and Saturday night.

Just you and me.

We didn’t have much time just the two of us, did we?

And 10 years sure flew.

Three houses. Two babies. A dog.

Our days are completely filled. Long works hours for you. Housework and writing for me. Homework and activities for the kids. Fun time on the weekends--- exploring our city, trying to find the best Mexican food around, eating ice cream, going for bike rides, playing in the yard, watching AFV and cheering on our teams on Sundays while devouring your amazing chili. It’s a typically busy suburban life, but I can’t imagine it any other way, or living this life without you.

Last Saturday you sang me a song you wrote. You know I loved it—how you summed up our life into a five-minute country ballad. You looked darn cute in that cowboy hat, and you sounded pretty close to Kenny Rogers. (At least that’s who I think you were trying to imitate.)

I know we were hoping to go on a big trip this year to celebrate our 10^th, but I can say I’m happy with our little celebration. Fondue. Wine (a bit too much). A heartfelt song, and some reminiscing.

Thank you for always making me feel special.

I loved you then and I love you now. Even more.