Twenty-Eight…

I never imagined myself marrying a younger man. (For a lot of years I never imagined myself getting married but that’s a story for a different day.) Boys mature so much slower than girls. Why would I want to be with someone younger than me?

Then I met Bob.

Granted the very first picture I saw of him I thought he was fifteen and not twenty-five. My initial instinct was to panic—he’s three years younger than me! This could never work! And then we started talking.

Age gap? What age gap?

Oh ye of little faith.

Today is my husband’s birthday. Today he is twenty-eight years old. Today he turns the age I was just turning when I met him.

I love him more than I ever thought possible to love someone. He is my entire world.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. I love you with all my heart.

Something to say?