Nine thousand, one hundred and thirty-one days.
Three hundred months.
Twenty-five years.
Friends and family gathered on a beautiful February day; around -5°C, overcast, in front of a partially-melted German ice castle at Winterlude to share our wedding with us. We were erm… serenaded by loud Chilean music for most of the ceremony, but honestly, I don’t really remember the music.
I remember the walk to the officiant, trying to keep pace with Tracey, seeing our family and friends, trying to remember my vows while looking into Tracey’s eyes, listening to Tracey’s, the applause when we were declared husband and wife, the TV camera person who butted their way into the crowd (which resulted in a hilarious call from Tracey’s ex-husband the next day).
In some ways, it feels like yesterday, or a lifetime ago.
Every single day, I count myself most fortunate to have Tracey in my life. She’s the person that got me out of my shell, to be open to socializing with people (and (how to do so), to (hesitantly) try new things, encouraged me to figure out what I wanted to do with myself. I’m a better person because of her being in my life.
She’s my best friend, the person I look forward to seeing so we can talk about our days, and the person I respect the most. She is tough, caring, pragmatic, funny, beautiful, smart, and truly my better half.
We’ve had many adventures over the years, from bike camping, so many belly dance and bollywood performances, walks all over the place, to shooting film, fundraisers for charity, camping and canoeing in Algonquin park in all four seasons, and others. I look forward to whatever the future holds for us.
How do I define love? You would think that after all this time I would be able to point to something and say, “See? Love!”, but it isn’t that easy – love is so many things. Love is paying attention to each other. Love is listening to listen. Love is staying curled up in bed. Love is the anticipation to seeing each other when we get home. Love is feeling each other’s skin. Love is ordering pizza after the other has had a bad day. Love is watching a musical – or a horror movie. Love is those walks in the rain. Love is doing something silly because it makes the other laugh. Love is finishing sentences, or whole thoughts. Love is a knowing look of communication in sync. Love is super-green.
Realistically, I could sit here all week, typing out things that reflect my love of Tracey to me, but let’s leave it to it’s basically everything about her. To say I lucked out is like saying observing a proton decay is common place.
I frequently will tell people my only advice on relationships is to marry your best friend and talk about everything. It seems to be working for us.
We’ve been together as a couple over half my life now, I wouldn’t have it any other way, and look forward to the next twenty five years together.
