Twenty-five years ago today, I made the promise to spend the rest of my life with my best friend. A promise I have never, ever have given a second thought. It’s sometimes difficult when I am offered a night out with the ladies (and I love my lady friends, all of you) but all I really would like to do is hang with this guy. Some of our best days have been spent in comfortable silence, reading by the fire together, knowing exactly what he’s thinking because I’m thinking the same thing. I know it sounds corny, but honestly, it’s true.
It was a beautiful January day, contrary to my worrying that the worst blizzard ever to strike New Jersey would pick that Sunday to arrive way before “snowpocalypse” was even a “thing”. It was a perfect day, surrounded by family and friends. My dad made the girls pancakes before everyone got dressed. He was in his glory. Lots of pictures, lots of smiles — I don’t think that I’ve smiled that much at one time.
Great friends who were just as excited I think as we were, since they had known us for a really long time and probably, like our families, thought the day would never come.
25 years is a long time, even longer when you consider that we dated each other 11 years and one day prior to that January afternoon. I think that one of the amazing revelations was the day when I figured out that I had spent more of my life with Tom than I had without him. Tomorrow, we are headed out cross country skiing. Another adventure with this guy. I love him.