Thirty-eight years of you being my favorite person to sit next to — at concerts, on road trips, and every ordinary day in between.
for my Wendy
My love,
Thirty-eight years ago I made the best decision of my life, and I've gotten to wake up next to proof of that decision every day since. People ask what the secret is to a marriage this long, and honestly, it's just you — your laugh, your patience, the way you still make me feel like the luckiest man alive after nearly four decades.
We've built a whole life out of small moments that turned into big memories — concerts we screamed the words to, a trip across the border we still talk about, and a running joke that's followed us for years and somehow never gets old. Thirty-eight years in, and you still surprise me.
Here's to the years behind us and every one still ahead. I love you today the way I loved you then — just more, and with better stories.
a few of my favorites, out of thousands
You singing along to every single word like you wrote the songs yourself. I still can't hear her on the radio without thinking of that night and you.
Another legend, another night out with you dressed up and glowing. Two different shows, two different times — both still some of my favorite memories of us.
Passports, questionable weather, and way too much laughing at the border. One of my favorite trips we've ever taken — not because of where we went, but because of who I got to go with.
The grocery runs, the Sunday mornings, the inside jokes nobody else understands. That's the real anniversary — every unremarkable day that somehow still felt like a good one because you were in it.
a button just for you