Twenty years of marriage is nothing to sneeze at, unless of course, you're allergic to marriage. I'm not a big fan of emphasizing a single day. I'm a fan of living well in the moment, being kind and yadda, yadda, yadda.
But today, Dan and I are married 20 years.
We are kind to each other and do small kindnesses for each other. We are that voice that says, "How was your day?" and usually listens to the answer. While we both have passions and friends beyond each other, we prefer to spend time together.
After twenty years, we still find each other interesting. We still have things to talk about (although I do most of the talking -- blah, blah, blah). And we've been through rough things -- health things, kid things, death things -- and those things, we decided, are the glue that binds us.
So a big thank you to Addam Schwartz because 23-1/2 years ago he asked, "Donna, mind if a friend of mine joins us for the movie tonight?"
I didn't say yes right away. I asked, "Is he cute?" which made Addam all uncomfortable. How is a guy supposed to answer that?
But that friend turned out to be Dan. And Dan felt comfortable enough with me on that first meeting to throw popcorn at me during the movies. (We were young.) About a month later, Dan asked me out. (He worked three jobs and went to college full-time.)
I didn't say yes right away. I told my mom, "Hey, looks like I'm getting a free dinner from this guy."
Dan and I were so broke, even though we both worked. A lot. Dan took me out to bowl and had no money. He took me out to dinner and had no money. (Borrowed it from his dad.)
Alongside a dock on Philadelphia's waterfront, late at night (with only one homeless person nearby) after a lovely dinner (during which I decided to become a vegetarian and write seriously long run-on sentences), Dan asked me to marry him.
I didn't say yes right away. I thought about it. Then I said yes.
It's worked out okay . . .
Happy 20th anniversary! Love you, Baby!!!