… that I was invited to commit to spend the rest of my life with Margie.
I said I would.
And I haven’t regretted it a moment since.
She’s a friend, someone to come home to (or to welcome home), an advisor, a helper, a lover, mother, partner, collaborator, inspiration, supporter, enricher. She encourages me to bigger and better things, keeps me on the strait and narrow, and makes sure I have fun.
She helps me be a better person than I would be without her.
My life is a quantum leap better today than it was seven years ago, and she’s directly responsible for that.
We’re going out for dinner tonight (Kitten being babysat by the Testermans). We’ll eat some good food (not as good as what she cooks), talk about this and that, laugh, gaze lovingly into each others’ eyes, and have a really nice time.
Which is sort of a microcosm of what my life is like with her.
Happy Anniversary, my love.
Thank you and “Ditto”! I could not have said it better myself and I won’t even try. You are the perfect mate for me and I love you!
Kiss Kiss!
You were invited…?
Does this mean Margie proposed?
Yay! I’m not the only person I know who did that!
(Well, not that I *know* you, but you know…)
And if she didn’t propose, then ignore this post.
If I’ve not told about my proposal to Margie, I’ll have to some time. In the meantime, she invited me only by saying “Yes” — and by making it clear through her love that the question would be welcome.
Is that mushy, or what?