The seventh day of the seventh month turned out to be exceptionally lucky for me. Twenty-five years ago today I married Linda.
It has been a fantastic quarter century, and I cannot believe my extreme good fortune in finding such a beautiful, loving, interesting and funny woman who would actually put up with me for this long. It has been a sharing relationship, in which Linda has taught me the long-term investment value of fine jewelry, the benefits of buying good shoes and to not wear certain color combinations. I have taught her all my bad habits.
I think our long love affair can be explained by three conversations. The first happened 26 years ago. In the midst of falling madly in love, we had moved to the point where we started thinking of living together.
I told Linda I had failed at two marriages, and as much as I loved her I didn't think it would be such a hot idea to get married a third time. "What do you think?" I asked.
She thought for about two seconds. "No, I want to get married," she said.
"OK," I said. That settled that. And pretty much established the decision-making structure that would serve us so well over the next 25 years.
The second conversation happened on the afternoon of our wedding. Our great friends Walt and Terry stood up with us - and in fact we got married in their house. Twenty-five years later, I still remember Terry, whom I love dearly, saying to me after the vows, "Listen, buster. This one sticks. I've never been in someone's wedding where it didn't last. So you're not walking away from this one."
I won't say I was intimidated, but the fact that I still recall it 25 years later probably says it all.
And the final conversation was this morning, our silver anniversary. The first words my darling said to me: "Donald, can you turn over. You're snoring really loudly."