It'll be 21 years tomorrow since Marc and I were married in a small ceremony in the Riverboat restaurant in Salt Lake City and although we have another wedding anniversary that marks the day we were married in the temple, Dec. 7, 1989, forever marks the official beginning of the adventure.
We took each other by the hand and leapt, a fairly courageous and perhaps crazy move, given that we'd both come out of unhappy marriages.
Since that day, we've created a life together that's fun and full of warmth and rewarding.
We've survived many challenges from being employed in enemy camps — he worked at The Daily Herald while I worked for The Deseret News for several years — to both being employed and now unemployed (effective in January) by The Deseret News.
We've survived the blending of two families and 12 children and the blessing of almost 28 grandchildren.
We've planted grass.
We've lived in abject poverty and dealt with economic successes.
We've won some and lost some.
All the way, we've been friends.
Marc listens to me despite my protests that he often doesn't.
He puts up with the harangues, the blow-by-blow work stories and the tears.
He is my biggest fan and truest critic.
I help him get to places on time and remember things on his list.
I laugh at his jokes and let him buy Bob Dylan.
I encourage him to be a good dad and a good grandpa and a loving husband.
Together we discover information and people and places. We share a kind of irreverant humor
and a deep love of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
We enjoy holding hands and games and Dr. Mario.
At the very least, it's been interesting as we took two lives and worked to weave one together.
Here's to at least another 21.
1 week ago