Sweet 16

It's often said that time flies when you're having fun. So as my wife and I woke up this morning, 16 years after we were married, the first thought that occurred to both of us was how fast it all seems to have gone.

Bleary-eyed, I headed downstairs and stopped halfway down the stairs to peer out over the living room and try to put it in perspective. I saw three children playing and a dog wandering between them. They were speaking quietly to each other, filling the room with the kind of weekend-morning banter that makes a house a home.

It was one of those Rockwellian moments that have always seemed to be a part of our little suburban life. I quietly sat on the stairs and tried to remember back to a time when life wasn't like this. I couldn't.

I couldn't remember what this world - our world - was like without these three little extensions of us, without the uniqueness each of them brings to our home: Zach's wicked sense of humor and fast-emerging view of the world. Dahlia's empathetic serenity and kindness and Noah's never-ending sweetness and energy. On this day 16 years ago, they were mere glimpses in our future, yet I couldn't, from my perch on the staircase, remember life without them.

In my mind, they've existed forever. We created them, their memory, their impact on the planet, when we decided to start a family. And I'm not afraid to admit that there are days when I wonder whether we've bitten off more than we can chew, whether we're up to the challenge of shepherding them into adulthood, whether I'm good enough to be their dad and my wife's husband.

But as I padded back upstairs and tucked myself back in next to my wife, I stared at her for a bit and realized that she's always been all I've needed. That's the way it's always been: she grounds me. I don't remember life before her, and can't imagine a life any different than the one we've built since that magical day 16 years ago.

Saying thank you to whatever powers-that-be that put me here doesn't seem adequate. I don't know what I did to deserve any of this, but I'm perfectly happy to revel in it for as long as I possibly can. Life is good because she decided to navigate it with me.

One more thing - If you want to go back in time, click on these anniversary-themed links:

• 2007 - How may years?
• 2006 - Save the last dance
• 2005 - Sing it like the Flintstones

Your turn: What are you celebrating today?