In the past year, I learned Greg doesn’t like packaged taco seasoning and bought my engagement ring on sale at a pawn shop. This after I’ve been wearing the ring for two decades and made taco meat more times than I could even begin to count.
With that, happy 20th anniversary, husband. I’m glad we can still learn things about each other after knowing each other for more than 24 years and being married for two decades.
After moving from Lexington on our first anniversary, we have lived in three houses in Murray during the past 19 years — and I hope we never move again. We’ve been parents for three-fourths of our marriage after a season of infertility that seemed so long at the time but led us to adoption. We changed jobs and completed so many projects. We’ve traveled and made a home that is nothing like I expected but I can’t imagine any other way at this point. We’ve grieved and laughed and celebrated and wondered and fought and cried and rejoiced and lived.
Thankfully, we naturally land on the same page about many things: We choose sporting events over museums. We like to sleep with the AC turned down to 68 degrees. We love Mexican food. We enjoy hosting parties, having game nights, and making plans with our people.
I’m truly thankful for the million small moments together than have made up our life. And I’m looking forward to whatever is to come.
Being in our 40s celebrating 20 years of marriage together seems like such a grown-up accomplishment. But it also seems like exactly where we are supposed to be. Let’s keep adventuring and learning together. Let’s go celebrate, maybe with tacos!
*****
Look back with us: Five years. Six years. Seven years. Nine years. Ten years. Eleven years. Twelve years. Thirteen years. Fourteen years. Fifteen years. Sixteen years. Seventeen years.
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