Silver Anniversary

25 years ago today, I stood up in front of friends and family, and married the woman I will kiss goodnight this evening. We were 22 years old and one week out of college. Neither of us had a job which would last past mid-August, at which time we would move to a city we had never visited before. We had no car, no savings, and no idea of what the future would hold. All we knew was that I would start law school in the fall, and she would find some sort of job.

It's been a quarter of a century now. We've been married for more than 10% of the time that the United States has been a country. In 1982, Reagan was in the White House, and they broke ground for the Viet Nam Veterans Memorial. Iran was at war with Iraq, and Britain was at war with Argentina over the Falkland Islands. I didn't know anyone who owned a CD player, a cell phone, or a personal computer. The Berlin Wall stood, and fears of nuclear war were rising.

You'd think I'd be full of advice on how to make a marriage last, but I'm not. If you're looking for one of those happy marriage recipes, I'm not your guy. In fact, we've probably violated most of them. We've gone to sleep peeved with each other, we've failed to set aside time for each other, and we've never gone to Marriage Encounter. Part of the reason we're still together is good luck and stubbornness.

One of the reasons that it is hard to offer advice is that not only is every couple different - every couple changes, and so does each partner. I've changed physically, intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, and just about any other way you might suggest. And she has, too. Some of what was important to us a couple decades ago is less important now, and other things have taken their place. It's been years and years since we spread the Sunday New York Times across the floor and drank coffee while reading it, or paged through a Williams-Somona catalog together. On the other hand, we didn't even want children when we got married, and now our two children are central to who we are.

All that said, there are things that haven't changed. She still makes me smile, and making her smile is one of my favorite things to do. We still listen to each other - not only to what the other is saying, but how we say it. (It is fascinating how many nuances can be conveyed in a word as short as "okay".) We share interests, but we've always had metaphorical rooms of our own - areas or passions we pursue without expecting or even really desiring the other to participate fully.

25 years ago today, we held hands and took off on an uncertain journey. We had no idea what was coming, but we knew we wanted to face whatever it was together. I have no idea what ups and downs will be coming in the next 25 years, but I know I'll be lucky to have her by my side. She makes the joy sweeter, and the sadness easier.

Tonight, we'll eat at a nice restaurant we've never tried for dinner, and then go to a presentation on a book about Einstein she's read. There may be more traditionally romantic ways to spend the evening, but this seems to fit us pretty well. After a quarter century together, we have a pretty good feel of what is better and what is worse for us.

I am an extremely lucky man.