{Dear Chip}

Twenty three years ago today was our first date.  The day we really sort of met and began getting to know each other.  Like today, it was a Saturday.  Yet unlike today, it was a sunny San Diego day and not a gray Kentucky one.  

I remember Balboa Park and Corvette Diner.  And I remember thinking, 

“I think this guy’s alright!”

I am so glad that day happened, just like I’m so happy that today is today.  We went out to eat last night.  This time with our kids, yet I couldn’t help to think of the similarities to Corvette Diner:  burgers, fries, loud music playing, some chaos.  This time though:  no meat on the burgers, again, two kids along, one of them almost as old as we were then. . . .  

We are different now.  We drink coffee and  live in the south.  We know so much more about life and work and relationships.  And we are much the same.  You’re still funny and freckled.  I’m still short and quiet.  

People write and speak about marriage so often now.  Eguiltarian?  The submissive wife?  Lead me, let me lead you, let me lead us. . . .   I don’t really know how I’d classify our marriage.  I suppose it’s different depending on the day and situation.  Yet it works, and I thank you for that.  Heaven knows it’s not easy and I have some regrets.  It’s hard not to after twenty three years of trial and error.  Yet I never have regretted January 21, 1989.  It was the beginning of us.  

Happy “us”, Chip!  



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