Twenty years ago today, the Guv and I met for the first time. We attended boarding school, where he was a graduating senior, and I was a year behind him. While we had common friends, it was a big school, and I didn't know his name until that day ... or maybe the day after. I called him Mr. Captain Varsity Baseball, a tribute to the fact that a) a jock asked me out, which was weird, because b) I dated poets and musicians, not jocks, so a distinct nickname was in order, and c) he was impressive and warranted a "title." Besides, I've always been a sucker for a baseball uniform, especially worn by a rather handsome man.
Within hours of our meeting, though, I knew that the Guv was much more than a cute guy in a uniform: he was (is) the smartest man I've ever met. I won't claim that I fell in love that first day -- it took six days -- but I was intrigued. At 16, I felt sure I was what we called back then a "senior fling" (he was headed to Yale the next year, and I'd be left behind) -- but I was okay with that, because, for nearly three weeks, I would have access to that vast library of his mind.
Near the end of that first few weeks, one of us wrote a note to the other -- I can't remember which one! -- that said, "Let's take each day as it comes, and worry about later later."
We haven't spent a day apart (at least not at heart) since May 13, 1990.
Now I share his last name, and our son plays baseball. In a month, we'll head back to the school where we met and remember the past fondly while wondering if our children's footsteps will ever grace the same halls.
Especially in the past year, when we've learned a little bit about the "in sickness and in health" part of our vows, I've given a lot of thought to this crazy life we've built together. I realized that, for us, this is what love is: the unpredictable, welcoming the blind turn in the road and embarking on it together, growing and changing in different ways, but always side by side ... having kids, but not losing each other in the process, seeing ourselves in them while letting their lives unfold by their own script ... always having something to talk about, and never losing the conversation ... sharing dreams both individual and together, supporting each other when our plans take different paths, but always returning to this one shared home and heart.
Five days after we met, the Guv told me he loved me and, moreover, that he'd marry me someday. I spent the night talking to girlfriends in my dorm about whether or not I should dump him, because, clearly, he was weird. By the next day, I realized he was right.
So, Guv, happy 20th. You were right. (There, I said it.) I love you, too, to the ends of the earth.
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