Today is our 8th Anniversary.
8 years since we began our lives together.
8 years of being a military family.
8 years of having babies, babies and (even Ukrainian) babies.
8 years that included three deployments.
8 years that included three reintegrations.
8 years of PCS moves, finding ourselves living in Georgia, Colorado and Here (of course 3 moves is really small potatoes in Military World, but PCS #4 is coming in just 18 short months!)
8 years of laughter.
8 years of Love.
8 Really Fantastic Years.
This man, who I am fortunate to be able to call my Husband, is the most wonderful person I know. The man, who knows my hand in a crowded room, who can calm my fears from thousands of miles away. A man who stands proudly as part of the less than 1% willing to fight for his country. A man who has been to war three times, but who jumps just as readily in to building train tracks with a classroom full of 3 year olds on our “helping parent days” or waging light saber battles with his children.
(Or vacuuming. He even vacuums. Because I hate vacuuming.)
How did I get so lucky?
There are many days when I really stop myself and wonder.
These 8 years have gone by in the blink of an eye it seems. And yet it already feels as if we’ve been married for an eternity as well. Perhaps it is just that I can’t imagine life without him.
My better half. My hero.
Happy 8 years, my Love. I am happier with you now than I ever could have imagined when we got married, and I know that as the years continue to roll on by I will always be immeasurably honored to be your wife.
Love for Always,