Today is my 17th anniversary.
My husband and I met when we were 16 years old. I was his first date (and he always adds..."and his last"). When I was a senior in high school, I knew that I wanted to be his wife and have a family and a life with him. It took a few years to convince him of that, but eventually my persistence paid off.
In 17 years, my husband and I have moved five times, lived in four different states, visited 10 National Parks, and traveled through 30 states. We have lived in an apartment and a basement, built a house, renovated a 100 year old farmhouse (that's still a work in progress), put together cribs, beds, strollers and entertainment units, and built shelves in five different garages. We've raised chickens, killed 3 parakeets (unintentionally), planted gardens, built chicken coops and mowed acres and acres of lawn. We have made lasting friendships, on both coasts and in several states in between, that we cherish. We have had church callings that have tested us and stretched us beyond what we thought possible. We have lost parents, grandparents, and friends. We have attended funerals and births, baptisms and weddings. We have experienced unbelievable joy and tragic wreckage. We have weathered storms, both literal and figurative.
And most importantly we have had four of the most amazing, beautiful, brilliant, and talented children on the planet.
I am grateful today for 17 wonderful years. I'm grateful to be married to a kind, wonderful, patient, compassionate man who adores me and who has made possible all of those dreams that I had when I was 16 years old and others that I could not have imagined. I look forward to the dreams yet to come.