Today is our forty-fifth wedding anniversary. I could argue that it should be at least our forty-sixth or forty-seventh because Peter was cautious about commitment back then. At this point, it doesn’t matter that it took us three years and fifteen days (but who’s counting?) between when we met and when we made it official.
Five years ago our kids and grandkids joined us in Western Massachusetts for our fortieth anniversary, but somehow we didn’t get around to planning anything with them this time. So we will spend today celebrating by walking along the Atlantic Ocean in Marblehead, Massachusetts and having dinner at our favorite anniversary restaurant.
Our love is as solid as the day we met. If anything, we are more grateful than ever for the forces that brought us together. But we are also more aware that we must make every moment count. We are taking good care of each other in the hopes of reporting how we celebrate our fiftieth in the 80-something blog.