Us + 35

Two halves of a greater whole
Laval, QC
August 2019
This photo originally shared on Instagram

I remember our first date like it was yesterday.

Except it most certainly wasn't yesterday. It was 35 years ago. August 17, 1984. We went to a pizza restaurant in Montreal, Tasty Food, and I remember wishing it would never end.

We talked a lot that evening, so much so that to this day I'm not sure how we found time to actually finish the pizza. It's a problem that persists to this day: I could talk to her forever.

Wait, that's not a problem. Except when you're hungry. And even then...

The sheer number makes me feel a little old, but that's perfectly fine when you cherish time as much as she does. And as you can tell from the photo, time has been kind to her. I stared at her a lot that night. Still do. I wish I had forever to look, too.

Just under eight years after sharing that magical pizza in that magical place on that magical night, we got married, and July 5 became our official-official anniversary.

But like a building built on a strong foundation, construction of any good marriage begins long before rings are exchanged and bouquets are tossed. Every other date, every milestone, every moment that came afterward, owes its existence to that first moment when we realized we weren't just having a pizza.

So August 17th sticks with us. Because it never hurts to remember where it all began, and what it felt like when the universe decided it was time our paths not only crossed, but joined.

And what DID it feel like that night? Flutters in my stomach. First time I'd ever felt them.

I still get them when I see her.

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