A Very Special Day
Today is February 13th. Aside from being the day before Valentine's Day, the thirteenth of February has another (and much more important) distinction: it is my wife's birthday.
She and I met in the summer of 1992. We started our relationship simply enough, by chatting online through an interface provided by the WWIV BBS software that I was running. Back then, you could only have one caller online at a time, and dial-up connections were the rule, rather than the exception. It wasn't like the globe-spanning internet that we have today, but somehow we managed to find each other and connect amidst the plethora of local BBS'.
In retrospect, it seems like we chatted for months on an almost-nightly basis. Realistically, though, I know that it was only a short time - perhaps a month, at most - before we hooked up in "realspace" at the San Diego Comic Convention volunteer picnic. We sat together at a boat pond and talked in person for the first time, and I guess we both left the meeting different people than we had been before.
It's been nearly fourteen years since those days. In that time, we've continued to stay together. We've moved out of our parents' homes and into a place of our own, we've exchanged vows and pledged our love to one another, and we've brought a wonderful little man into the world. For better or for worse, we've changed one another in ways that we can hardly imagine, unless we peer back through the mists of time at the teenagers we both were back in 1992.
Each year, I am presented with reminders of the past that we have shared with one another, and how those years would have been so very different if we hadn't met. Birthdays, amidst annual holidays and special anniversaries, are always a reminder.
The day that we first met, when we sat on the shore of that little boat pond in San Diego, I knew in my heart that something special was going to come out of our lives together. I wasn't planning ahead, nor would I have believed you if you'd told me that she and I would still be together in another fourteen years. Yet here we are in 2006, a family, and it seems like only yesterday that I saw her walking towards me, the smile on her face saying, "I know who you are," but being too shy to stop and say hello.
So we're together, and I hope we stay that way forever. My life would be far emptier if my wife were not a part of it. I can only repay her in kind for the constant support and understanding that she shows to me, and I can only marvel at the endless patience that she shows for both my son and I.
I love you, Amy. Happy Birthday.
She and I met in the summer of 1992. We started our relationship simply enough, by chatting online through an interface provided by the WWIV BBS software that I was running. Back then, you could only have one caller online at a time, and dial-up connections were the rule, rather than the exception. It wasn't like the globe-spanning internet that we have today, but somehow we managed to find each other and connect amidst the plethora of local BBS'.
In retrospect, it seems like we chatted for months on an almost-nightly basis. Realistically, though, I know that it was only a short time - perhaps a month, at most - before we hooked up in "realspace" at the San Diego Comic Convention volunteer picnic. We sat together at a boat pond and talked in person for the first time, and I guess we both left the meeting different people than we had been before.
It's been nearly fourteen years since those days. In that time, we've continued to stay together. We've moved out of our parents' homes and into a place of our own, we've exchanged vows and pledged our love to one another, and we've brought a wonderful little man into the world. For better or for worse, we've changed one another in ways that we can hardly imagine, unless we peer back through the mists of time at the teenagers we both were back in 1992.
Each year, I am presented with reminders of the past that we have shared with one another, and how those years would have been so very different if we hadn't met. Birthdays, amidst annual holidays and special anniversaries, are always a reminder.
The day that we first met, when we sat on the shore of that little boat pond in San Diego, I knew in my heart that something special was going to come out of our lives together. I wasn't planning ahead, nor would I have believed you if you'd told me that she and I would still be together in another fourteen years. Yet here we are in 2006, a family, and it seems like only yesterday that I saw her walking towards me, the smile on her face saying, "I know who you are," but being too shy to stop and say hello.
So we're together, and I hope we stay that way forever. My life would be far emptier if my wife were not a part of it. I can only repay her in kind for the constant support and understanding that she shows to me, and I can only marvel at the endless patience that she shows for both my son and I.
I love you, Amy. Happy Birthday.
posted by Gary at 4:31 PM
2 Comments:
happy birthday amy!!!
Happy birthday, Amy.
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