Thirty-two years ago, I stood under a chuppah and
exchanged lifetime vows with a man I had known for only 13 months. I had no
idea what those words really meant. I was 25 years old.
A lot has changed in the past 3 decades. I’ve lost my
parents and grandparents. I’ve lost my breasts to cancer and several dear
friends to it as well, many of them my contemporaries. But there has been one
constant. He is my staunchest supporter, biggest cheerleader and ready sounding
board. He has indulged me much and denied me little. A lesser man would have
left a long time ago.
The word “love” has been so over-and-misused as to render it
almost meaningless. Therefore, I will borrow the word of the great sage, Woody
Allen, and simply say “I lurve him”.
We have both changed quite a bit during these years, and
through hard work, a sense of humor, and sometimes just dumb luck, have managed
to grow closer rather than apart. Keeping the big picture in mind helps. The
days can be long but the years are short. I am a very lucky woman and eternally
grateful to him. I tell him this often, and today I just wanted to tell
everyone else too.
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