15 Years

Yeah. 15 years in this married life.

NY. LA. Ashland. Denver. San Francisco. Oakland. Lafayette.

Santa Barbara still glitters in front of us with with its palm trees and curving beaches.

The story is taking quite a turn right now. Will the car fly off the track?

Hard to say. But wherever it lands, we’re likely to be in it together.

That’s the bet we made in front of friends and family 15 years ago on the patio of the oldest hotel in Ashland, Oregon.

Afterwards, we had cupcakes (that you made) and ice cream and I surprised you with a move on the dance floor.

We met in the smallest of apartments. We’ve lived in 7 since (if I count your actor housing in 3 seasons at OSF). Now we’re in a house that has seen us through nearly a third of the married time we’ve been together.

A Mini Cooper. A Prius. An inherited Avalon. A Jaguar. A Volvo.

2 kids who still play swords together in the backyard.

A dog named Dot.

Nectarines at midnight. Backyard summer movies.

We’ve been lucky.

Lucky most of all in each other.

Crazy to think that if we double our record, I’ll have to be more than 70 to see it.

Can that be? Could we do it?

I wouldn’t bet against us, that’s for sure.

Happy Anniversary, H.