Happy Birthday to my husband

Twenty years ago on this day I rented a limousine and took you out to dinner at Pamona Valley Mining Company. I had never been in a limo before, but you had and you told me all about it. Which made me mad. Because it included a prom date and White Castle. Thinks to self: I have no idea why we are married. You were 19 years old then, and now you are old like me. We have been through a lot together, eh? Rough patches in the beginning, God changing our hearts, your deployment in the Air Force and a three month separation, more rough patches, a career change, a move to Long Island, a few precious months with your mother before she died and a few horrible months with your father, more rough patches, another move to Georgia, infertility, adoption, parenting a mentally challenged child, pregnancy, another move, more infertility, more rough patches, more children, the roughest patch ever, forgiveness, and here we are twenty years later. Whew. When I think about it that way, I am so glad I can't go back to do it all over again. Although there have been a lot of 'rough patches' along the way, I wouldn't trade them for the world. We have grown up together...literally...and you have always been my best friend. Always. You make me laugh like no other person on the face of this earth. You love me like any woman could only wish that her husband loved her. We certainly aren't perfect, but we love each other and are committed to each other until death do us part. Happy Birthday, Goose. May we live to see another 39 years together. I love you.