Today is my 30th anniversary. Fortunately, it’s Jerry’s 30th anniversary, as well, or I wouldn’t be celebrating. Thirty years of joy, moving, laughter, worry, moving, love, family, panic attacks, moving, tragedy, celebration, stress, anxiety, moving, luxury, money worries, gardens, moving, ailments, celebrations, pouts, moving, blizzards, depression, glee, moving, more moving, and more of everything else that comes up in just about everyone’s lives.
We celebrated our first anniversary with a large catered party in the elegant back garden of our Beacon Hill row house (we had that little one-bedroom apartment on the second floor). I think we were both so surprised at the time to have maintained a relationship for an entire year that we thought we’d better mark the occasion. Jerry said he had no doubts from the start that it would be forever. I was convinced for a long time that, one of these days, he would realize what a huge mistake he had made.
So, here we are in Sevilla marking the beginning of our 31st year together. I had thought we’d be in our apartment and hosting a party for our new friends to commemorate this latest milestone. But that won’t happen without “luz” and it’s too hot to do much of anything anyway. So, we have no big plans to mark this day except to spend it together. And, for me, that’s more than enough.