Four years, my love. Four years since we stood in front of our friends and family and the river and pledged to love one another always, in all ways. What did we know, besides that we had chosen each other? We certainly didn’t know of the wilderness that laid ahead of us, or the fruitfulness that was to follow. We didn’t know how to argue or decide who would take out the trash. We didn’t know when or where we would settle down. And I’m so glad. I’m so glad we jumped all in, at the ripe age of twenty-one, not knowing it all. All we knew was that we had each other and that was enough. It still is.
Happy anniversary, darling. I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone but you.