I am thankful for the last 15 years. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not 15 years-old (I’m 43), and I actually had some good years before these, but these last 15 were notable—to me.
I was married fifteen years ago in ‘99 to the best husband for me. He and I had been best buddies for years then we finally tied the proverbial knot and started our own household.
Second, that same year, my spouse adopted my daughter, from my first failed, miserable, emotionally abusive marriage. (He’s been her real daddy all her life according to her, me, and him.)
Third, that year saw me through colon cancer diagnosis, surgery, chemo, and finally a clean bill of health.
That’s just the beginning. During these 15 years in our lives, an awful lot has occurred.
The adults both finished college (non-traditional ages of course), bought and sold our first, second, and third houses, moved twice for jobs, lost one job and experienced unemployment for 9 months. We learned one relative was gay, another was closeted, and two more were alcoholics.
We obtained graduate degrees, raised the world’s most hilarious teenager, and took in abandoned kitties. We went on short, affordable family vacations, finished one doctorate, and buried three grandparents. We put up Christmas trees, read Tolstoy, tried couponing, and experienced the suicide of a coworker.
We followed news stories that shook America’s faith in others, spent holidays with family, became friends with people from other countries and ethnicities, gave money to the homeless, witnessed a beloved friend’s transition to his true female self, and learned to prefer red wine.
Here’s to the next 15, thanks given in advance.