I met my husband in a bar.  Yep, a bar.  It wasn’t a nice trendy bar with men in business suits and women in business attire enjoying “happy hour”.  It was a bit of a dive.  To give you a hint – there was a sign over the door proclaiming “Greatest Bar Below Earth.”  I don’t think that there are hip trendy places that make that proclamation.

No, I did not know the minute I saw him that he was the man for me.  I was with two friends and two of his friends started talking to us and they dragged him over so that there would be three of them.  The main problem with this was that he was on a date.  Anyway, introductions were made and we all moved on.

About a month later, I was back at the same bar with two other friends and there he was again.  We spoke. I reminded him that we had met and he agreed.  We then talked some more and drank some more and just kept that up until the early hours of the morning.

I didn’t hear from him.  Since I was dating someone else, I wasn’t supposed to be disappointed but I was.  I kinda liked that guy.

A week or so passed and I went back to the bar with a friend.  Lo and behold he was there.  He explained that he didn’t have a way to get in touch (dark ages = before cell phones) and was hoping that I would come by the bar.

He asked me out and I said “yes”.  That started it all.  We had a lot of fun and figured things out as we went along.

It is now 34 years later.  I am still happy to be with him.  I think he is the best kisser in the entire world. (I can make that judgement based on my extensive experience – NOT)

We have lived through some times that have been more difficult than others.  I don’t know that I would say that we have had hard times.  We have cried at the birth of our two children.  We have laughed because it was the best thing to do.  We have held hands through our son having three neurosurgeries.  We often say “I love you”.   We have held each other through my mom’s burial and memorial service.  That is it – we kiss, we hold hands, and we are there for each other.

No, we don’t always get along.  He can be quiet and to be honest, a bit moody.  I do talk before I think and tend not to couch my comments in the best terms.  We know that working together would be a disaster.  Watching him work a computer to find information could easily drive me out of my mind.  My way of doing most things drives him crazy.  Apparently the directions I give are not the easiest to follow. (it seems that having a hard time telling left from right makes a difference.  Who knew?)

He tells people that he married me for comic relief.  That is on good days.  At other times, I get “the look” because he does not always share my sense of humor.  He seems to think that some situations do have have inherent humor while I do.

Despite it all, we find a way to get along.  We respect each other.  We want to be together.  And I am the luckiest girl in the world.