November 25 - The Day I Met My Wife

Every year, right around Thanksgiving, I celebrate the day I met my wife. It was on November 25, 1987 that we were introduced, semi-accidentally, at a restaurant dinner put on by the cousin of a woman I had met at work. Thus began what is today a 24-year relationship that keeps going--and makes my life worth living.

Every year we talk about "meeting day" as one of our anniversaries, like our wedding date, halfway around the calendar, two years later. It's not often that one particular day stands out in your life, but this is one of them. The birth of our son in 1992 is another.

In a world where there are negative anniversaries (9/11/2001 or 12/8/1980, for example) it's great to celebrate the positive too. Actually, that's what holidays and birthdays are for, right? Every year at Thanksgiving, besides being grateful for the abundance that my life has given me, I give special thanks for finding my sweetheart too.

Today, we spent time together at the San Francisco Auto Show, which is an annual ritual for us. We wandered through the sprawling underground rooms of the Moscone Center looking at this year's crop of cars and wondering what we'd want to own. So few really make the cut--too expensive, unappealing styling, gas hogs or just plain boring. Maybe a few gems. See tomorrow's post for more about this car show and my shifting sentiments on cars in general.

Next year, we'll celebrate the quarter century anniversary of meeting day. Maybe we'll do something special--go somewhere--but just hanging out together on November 25 is fine with me.