After 18 Years, I wouldn't Change a Thing
On Sunday, my husband and I will celebrate our 18th wedding anniversary.
We chose October to be married because fall is our favorite time of year. With our oldest marrying a week from tomorrow and our middle daughter celebrating her first anniversary on the 20th, October is proving to be everyone�s favorite month.
After so many years together, the struggle to find that perfect gift becomes harder each year. Three years ago, I turned over this space to my husband and he wrote my column that week to celebrate our anniversary. He wanted complete editorial rights. In other words, no editing. I couldn�t relinquish that prerogative, but he did such a good job that very little was changed.
We met because I wanted to learn to line dance. It was back in the early �80s when Urban Cowboy and Cherokee Fiddle were all the rage. So a girlfriend and I ventured out one Tuesday night to a local establishment offering free lessons.
The place was packed with people like me itching to tackle the Texas Two-Step and the Cotton Eyed Joe. The time for the lessons to begin had come and gone and everyone was becoming antsy to join the folks on the dance floor who looked so good.
Over the PA system came the announcement that lessons were canceled for the evening due to the instructor�s illness. A huge groan was heard. The man on the
intercom instructed everyone just to jump out on the floor and grab a partner who knew how to dance and, in short order, we�d be doing the same. That wasn�t my style, but my girlfriend went in search of a couple of cowboys to teach us.
I watched her approach a half dozen or so with little luck. And then there he was. All decked out in jeans, a leather vest and a cowboy hat, he and his buddy were following my friend to our table.
He tipped his hat, called me ma�am and said he understood that I wanted to learn to dance. He�d be happy to teach me. After a bit of protesting on my part, he took my hand and off we went.
He was good! By the end of the second song, I�d gotten the hang of the two-step. An hour later I was in line with the rest of the gang slappin� leather and doing the freeze.
When the evening ended, he walked me to my car, shook my hand, said he�d enjoyed meeting me and gave me his business card. Told me he was there most weekends if I was interested in coming back to dance some more. And if I was interested in him, feel free to call his office.
As he walked away, I thought of Debra Winger�s line from Urban Cowboy as she left Gilley�s with John Travolta. She�d found herself a real cowboy.
My cowboy turned out to be that and so much more. A well-read, well-educated antiques collector with a passion for gardening and old houses. We dated for a year and tied the knot on October 13, 1984.
We�ve been through a lot of ups and downs, raised two lovely daughters, have a son who�s a joy and are about to be grandparents. And I can�t think of anything I�d change.
These catch phrases we all hear today to describe the perfect mate, to me, are just that. A true spouse should always be there for you, wherever there is. The right one must be your soul mate.
I don�t know about the soul mate title, but I do know this. This man is my best friend, my staunchest supporter, the shoulder I lean on, the one I laugh the loudest with and the one I argue the most passionately with.
And I wouldn�t change a thing.
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