It's my husband's fifty-first birthday today. In his usual style, it's an understated celebration; he'll spend the day alone, probably going for a motorcycle ride and puttering around in shops along the way. The rest of us will spend the day doing usual Spring Break stuff (meaning cleaning and crocheting for me, video games and time with friends for the teens). We'll meet up this evening for dinner out, on me.
I just realized today that I've seen my husband through three "decade" birthdays--30, 40, and 50. In a few years, he'll celebrate my 50th with me, and we'll be even. I've now been with him for over half of my life, and lived in the same city during that time--both milestones in this Army Brat's history.
I'm surrounded by couples with the same marriage longevity, but I know that it is still a miracle in the making, this partnership we have. We've lived through job losses, two life-threatening births, deaths of parents and relatives, surgeries, job changes, and graduate school. We're now dealing with having a child in college, half out of the nest, and another about to enter high school, just beginning to fly with difficulties of his own to overcome.
We've done this together. Even when life was a whirlwind, and our relationship was a zillionth on the priority list (I know, it shouldn't have been, but it happens in real life)--our marriage was never in question.
Our marriage is a given, but I never take my husband for granted. Happy birthday, hubby. Here's to many more milestones together.