Yr 1. We argued over how to use the new camera before heading out the door to dinner.  Oh brother.

Yr 5.  With 2 babies and no furniture, we made a homemade meal and watched a movie on the floor.

Yr 10. We posed for a roll of Kodak film in our floral dining room because I thought the wall paper was beautiful.

Yr 15. We spent the weekend at a B&B in the foothills, toured caverns and arrived back too late, according to the host.    The door was locked.

Yr 20. We took Bill’s mom to pizza then Dairy Queen where she ordered her favorite hot fudge sundae.  Happy Anniversary, Mom.

Yr 25. We biked the river path, found a bench to read romantic letters to each other but were interrupted by a ranger on her horse who felt she needed to take care of business.  And so did her horse.

Yr 39. We made the out-of-town trip to shop, hold hands and splurge at Cheesecake Factory.

Yr 40. We sat side by side Bill’s hospital bed and thanked God for one last anniversary, one last photo, in look-alike sweatshirts.

Today is our anniversary.  Was our anniversary.  No… still is our anniversary.  In my heart, I’m celebrating a marriage that no one celebrates anymore.  Cept Jesus.  I think Bill does.  And I do.  This marriage transformed my life, gave me a family, and taught me more about the love of God.

I might not be lingering over a slice of shared cheesecake in a booth in the back, or laughing over words in a silly card, or singing, “Happy Anniversary, Baba, got you on my mind,” out loud all day.  But in my heart, I am celebrating.  A marriage like the Lord gave Bill and me is a rare treasure.  I am treasuring it.

In fact, I cannot wait to pick it up again someday.  Maybe not in a married form, but in a I-know-you-best form.  I-love-you-so-so-much form.  Let’s-go-do-stuff form!  I think about this future often.  What is good on this earth is perfected in Heaven.  I love to think about it.

On this anniversary, Yr 42, we are celebrating and treasuring from different homes.  Happy anniversary, Babe.