It occurred to me today that I’ve been married for nineteen years.

And I can’t even tell you all of the wonderful things that have happened during those nineteen years. Amazing things and exciting things and marvelous things.

My wife and I have purchased two homes in those nineteen years. Our starter home, which we bought because circumstances required us to move out of our starter apartment, was 1100 square feet. Our current family of five would have driven each other to homicide if we were still in that home. We stayed in that home for almost seven years. All three of our children started out their home life in that cozy little home. We ended up selling it to the man who sold us our second home, and he flipped our first house as he’d flipped our second.

Our current home has been our home for ten and a half years. There’s a bit of contention as to whether or not this will be our forever home, but it has definitely met our needs. Primarily, it is almost three times the size of our first home. And, contrary to what you would have expected to happen, we moved from a house built in the 1950s to a house built in the 1860s (I’m still questioning that move).

My wife and I have brought three children into the world in those nineteen years. Our eldest, born in 2004, is now getting close to 16 years old, and he is my favorite son. Our twin daughters, born in 2007, are among my three favorite women in the world. The five of us are each uniquely individual and, at the same time, a strong single unit with unbreakable ties.

My wife and I have owned six vehicles in those nineteen years: 3 sedans, two mini-vans, and a truck. We have been in possession of a mini-van for as long as we’ve been a family of five, but when we first started out, we were a two-sedan couple. The truck came in during a time when my job required me to do some hauling, and I’d secretly always wanted a truck. Of course, we got rid of the truck not long after we got news that we were expecting twins.

My wife and I have rented one apartment in those nineteen years, when we were first starting out. As a matter of fact, I lived in the apartment for a week before the wedding because I needed a placed to stay after the end of my college apartment lease, but before our nuptials. We stayed in that apartment for about a year and a half, from the spring of 2001 to the fall of 2002.

Our only other significant real estate dealing was the purchase of a single piece of vacant land while we were in our first house, when we thought we might build a house some day. Do you know what it costs to build a new home, by the way?!?! We bought it before the slump of ’08, tried selling it thereafter, and ended up taking a bath on the whole thing.

We’ve only had four jobs in those nineteen years, which is, in itself, a major miracle. We were both in starter professional positions at the point when we got married, we both ended up moving into better professional positions within eighteen months of our wedding, and we’ve been in those better professional positions ever since. We have been extremely blessed to work for institutions that have been faithful to us and have been inspirational places to work, for the most part.

Unless I’m mistaken, we’ve been using the same electric can opener the whole time.

I bring all of this up because, as much change as there has been in nineteen years –this car and that house and this job and that child’s major life event– the constant has been the two of us.

When I was waiting tables, hoping to get a teaching job somewhere, Jennie was my wife.

When the World Trade Center was attacked and the world seemed to become a little less stable, Jennie was my wife.

When my wife and I figured out that her periodic back aches in the middle of a June night weren’t back aches at all, but rather uterine contractions, Jennie was my wife.

When I earned my Master’s Degree and she earned her Master’s Degree, Jennie was my wife.

When my only brother died and I thought that the world was coming to an end, Jennie was my wife.

When our twin daughters were born so small that there was a real chance that they wouldn’t survive, Jennie was my wife.

When neither of us knew how we were going to make it through having a child recovering from open-heart surgery, Jennie was my wife.

Jennie has always been my wife. She will always be my wife. We will stay together, as we have always been together, because we are –at this point– one. Our oneness, our shared identity, this shared set of experiences we’ve had, our family, our entwined destiny, all of these things are treasures which belong to us because our marriage is a sacred thing.

It hasn’t always been great, but no life is all roses. The greatest thing about it is this –> the bad times aren’t as bad because we have each other, and the great times are even greater, because we have each other.

I’ve made some crap decisions in my life (I never should have gotten rid of that truck — I loved that truck), and I’ve made some pretty decent ones, as well.

The very best choice that I’ve ever made was marrying my wife.