The time gets away from me every day. Everyday since Sunday I've been meaning to make time to be alone with my husband for a moment, an hour, an anything, and everyday it gets away from me. So I will start with this.
Sunday was February 19. Do you remember what that day was, Michael? That was the day that you proposed. I remember starting that day as we did any other day and ending it promised to the man of my dreams.
Many couples have their individual special days. the day they first met, their first date, their first kiss. The day they got married, the day there children were born. All special days. But for me, this day is our special day. More special than our wedding day because this is the day that you really made your commitment to me. You thought about this moment carefully, in my opinion at times, too carefully. I didn't understand how it could take you so long to decide about us. You couldn't understand how I knew so deeply and immediately. It was our only source of argument. And so when you proposed I knew you knew. I knew you weren't forced or unsure or throwing caution to the wind, as they say. You were ready. Finally.
Our wedding day, came fast and secured the promise that we had already pledge to each other and our day was a beautiful day. The threat of rain and our gamble of not using tents paid off, only to bring a storm to end all storms the whole next day. We were lucky, lucky ducks already living a good, good life. But for me, Feb 19 was the day it began. That day we both knew, without a glimmer of doubt, that we would carry each other's burdens, witness each other's lives forever, and try our best to keep the other happy and secure and supported. That was the day we started our life together.
And every year, on February 19, I hope to love each other enough to ask each other, "Will you marry me... again?"