Destiny and Fate aren’t fond of the overt gesture, preferring to whisper, nudge, cajole and hint at what they want. If we miss it the first time around, they’ll often come back with somewhat greater urgency, trying to ensure the right path for those who might be turning the wrong way. By the time I met Andy, I knew enough to follow the delicate directions of the heart, trusting in where they were taking us, and after twenty-five years together, they have never steered us wrongly.
On that fateful Sunday evening, after a day of rain and ennui in my hometown, I made my way to Oh Bar and sat down alone at the rather empty environs, happily single for the first time in perhaps forever. Enter Fate and Destiny, those whimsical twins who pushed Andy into the bar at the same time. After a friend’s cheeky introduction, we spent the night talking, while the rest of the world fell away. I still think of looking into Andy’s eyes as midnight ticked by – a moment in time stilled in my mind, forever repeating in giddy, transfixing fashion. I followed him home – and from that day forward, wherever we found ourselves was home, as long as we were together. When we fought or grew distant, the world felt wrong, and it would only be righted when we found our way back to each other.
If there’s one thing that has kept our relationship interesting and fascinating, and something I never quite take for granted, is the way that we tackle and take each day as it comes – grateful for another day to spend together, thankful for the partner I have on this journey. These past few years, our love has taken on a slightly different resonance, its glow somehow more intense and lovely, and sometimes I find myself watching Andy at some mundane task and feeling my heart burst with love – unsaid, unhyped, united love.
Ten years after we first met, we sat across from each other at another table, high above Boston, in a restaurant we were considering for our wedding rehearsal dinner. A young couple was seated beside us – they couldn’t have been more than teenagers on one of their first dates – and somehow talk turned to how long we’d been together – we said ten years and both of them marveled and offered their congratulations; once again, we felt the approving nods of Destiny and Fate.
It would be a recurring motif – looking over at Andy across some table or room – and feeling gratitude and happiness for what we have created together: this third entity called love, this idea called home. Twenty-five years later, we still feel it, it’s still there – guiding us, holding us together when life grows difficult, celebrating us when life agrees to smile, keeping us together when the world sometimes seems to want to break everyone apart.
A lot has happened in the last quarter century – and I’ve been lucky enough to experience all of it with my husband. Happy 25th, Andy ~ I love you. Here’s to the next 25…
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