Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Today is Earl’s and my fourteenth wedding anniversary, although we lived together fifteen years before tying the proverbial knot.

In the first fifteen years, we buried four parents, were in business together, and found a mutual love in cruising. We melded our individual styles, which are at the far ends of the bell curve, and cancelled each other’s vote in every presidential election.

Since the wedding, we’ve confronted cancer more than once, addressed declining health issues, and continued to cruise until 2020. Earl’s gone to Israel, a goal of his; I’ve gone to Boston on more than one occasion to see my son run the Boston Marathon.

At our wedding reception, I gave a little speech that noted our plan was to grow old together because raising children and burying parents were out of the way. I also invited attendees to be at our silver anniversary in 2035.

It’s hard to believe we’re more than halfway there.