David and I have been married 40 years, today. We met in San Diego. I was the secretary at a HUD housing apartment. David had recently arrived from Massachusetts, with plans to go back and get the woman with whom he was in a relationship. He was hired to be the maintenance man. We met, attended a company party together and launched into an affair. My boss, the manager of the complex, thought our behavior was scandalous and predicted, when we both quit our jobs, that we would never last.
We moved to the San Francisco area, lived there for a year, moved further north to Douglas City. The house we were renting burned down when we were in Las Vegas for my sister's wedding. Ultimately we immigrated to Vancouver Island, Canada where our son, Andy, was born. When David couldn't find work in Canada, we moved back to the US, this time to Washington State where David started working at Boeing.
We moved from Everett to Whidbey Island 33 years ago. I am blessed to live in a beautiful part of the world, surrounded with people I love, am now retired and able to create art whenever I want. My husband is my biggest supporter. He loves me when I am my best and somehow, continues to love me when I am at my worst. I am so lucky.
Yesterday David played golf. I sketched and painted. I gave him the results today. The 40th anniversary is traditionally celebrated with a ruby gift. We aren't very traditional - in fact, I have a cold, so our going out to dinner to celebrate will happen in the future. Happy Anniversary, Dear David.