Saturday, February 14, 2015
We never should have met, my husband and I. We didn't live in the same town. We weren't the same age. We didn't do the same things.
Ironically, we had one person in common.
His new step-mother was the mother of one of my best high school friends.
32 two years and a couple of weeks ago, my high school friend Scott called me up and asked if I would go to his mother's wedding reception with him. Scott is gay and at the time, his mother didn't know it. Scott knew his mom was going to fix him up with a friend and he wanted to avoid that, so he called me. I was supposed to do something with Teri, my best friend from high school that night so Scott said, "Bring her along!"
So I did.
As we pulled into the parking lot, Scott saw his new step-brother getting out of his car. He said to Teri and I, "That's Greg. We should invite him to sit with us. I know Mom is trying to fix him up too."
So we did.
I was a young single mom trying to make it. He lived several hours away and had no reason to want this relationship.
But he did.
We'll celebrate 31 years of marriage this year. We raised two great men, who gave us six wonderful grandkids to love and spoil. It wasn't easy. It definitely wasn't hearts and flowers and romantic dinners. It was hard, really hard. But we worked at it every single day. We had each other as a safe place to land when they world got rough.
So today, I want to say thanks to my husband. Thanks for taking a chance on that cold, snowy night 32 years and a couple of weeks ago. I love you.