A Reflection on Love05.17.16
G and I met almost 16 years ago in Miami, Florida. We were two fresh-faced, starry eyed kids who fell in love at happy hour over Tuesdays with Morrie and tequila shots (kidding). How did I know he was “the one”? I didn’t. I was pretty non-committal back (and still am, according to him), but as soon as we met, I felt like we had met before. There was an instant familiarity, like when you see an old friend you haven’t seen and you pick up right where you left off. And we fell in love, hard. I never knew this kind of romance existed. I had gorged on my fair share of chick flicks and dated leisurely until then, but I was pretty cynical about the whole thing during these quaint pre-Tinder days.
G loved love and celebrated it like no one I had ever met. He did outrageous things during our courtship, delivering a singing cow birthday telegram one time; surprising me as Santa on Christmas day with an enormous gift box holding a beret and plane tickets to Paris; escorting me blindfolded through the park for a picnic breakfast. I mean, we got engaged on a deserted beach in the Cayman Islands, for heaven’s sake!
Fast forward 13 years and here we are with our little family. Watching our most precious gift, the daughter that we fought so hard for, grow and thrive every day. Preparing for the future, worrying about our parents, and planning adventures. Every week or two, we have our treasured date nights where we try to go back to the time before we were parents. When we would hop on a plane at the drop of a hat or go clubbing until the wee hours of the morning. Now our outings are a bit more subdued and usually include dinner and music, but during those few hours it’s just us two again and the pressures of life seem to float away.
Today, I celebrate my G and give thanks for teaching me how to love love. Hoping I can make you proud.