Thirteen isn't always an unlucky number...especially when it was 13 years ago today I got married to a truly amazing woman in a little park in Virginia Beach.
There have been a lot of miles, and a lot different houses between now and then...but each one has been a home because of her.
A few years ago, she revealed to me that about two weeks after we go married(after we had driven from Virginia, to Connecticut to load up my Ranger and a U-Haul trailer, and then headed west), she had cold feet. When I snuck out to pick up Subway across from a motel in Montana, she had called her mom and asked if she could come home. Her mom told her she was home...and that was that.
I still owe her mom big for that.
Obviously, even after 13 years, I can't read my wife's mind, but I have to believe that was the closest we have come to not making it. Oh...not every day is perfect...but most of them are amazing...and I can't imagine things without her.
Which is nice, because I do not think it's exaggerating to say we are both like fine wines, getting better as we age.