Today marks our thirty-second wedding anniversary, and the celebration began this morning when Hiram and I exchanged cards. I had forgotten to get his card ready ahead of time and was sneaking off to find it when he intercepted me. “Happy Anniversary,” he said, and held out a card.
“I have a card for you, too,” I announced in my own defense. “It’s just not ready yet.”
“It’s probably way better than mine,” he assured me. “This one’s just from the hospital gift shop.”
“Well,” I assured him, “the card I have for you is the one I forgot to give you last year. I can’t even remember what it says. So I’m sure the card you’re giving me is better.”
He waited while I signed his card, slipped it into the envelope and presented it to him with a flourish. He opened it and read the sweet note which was, I must admit, a very lovely summary of why I love him. At the same time, I read his card, a rather long free verse poem by Linda Lee Elrod about how love grows as couples share the trials and joys of life.
I was getting teary-eyed when he said, “The card you gave me is way better than that thing.” He gestured to the one in my hand. “It’s just bunch of words about old people going through hard times together.”
I burst out laughing, and once again understood why our marriage has endured over thirty years. My husband is the humblest man I know, generous, honest and totally without guile, always willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. He is a gracious gift from God, and the only person who can put up with me.
And for our anniversary, he stopped in the gift shop in the hospital where he works and picked out a card with a bunch of words about old people going through hard times together. What’s not to love about a man like that?
