Valentine’s Day is winding down, and it just wouldn’t feel right to get to the end of the evening without having paid tribute to Dunreith, my wife, love and best friend.
On a very basic level, every day with Dunreith is a gift, and it’s always fun to have the opportunity to reflect back to her what she has meant to me, to buy her a bouquet of pink carnations and a humorous card, to walk together to dinner at our favorite vegetarian restaurant, and to talk.
Talking has been a foundation of our relationship since we first started dating in August 1998.
The depth and fluidity and range of our conversations was one of the major reasons I realized early in our time together that I did not see our relationship ending.
Fortunately for me, it hasn’t.
We’ve talked throughout Aidan’s childhood and emergence into adulthood.
We’ve talked through our move from Western Massachusetts to Evanston, where we set down roots and have built a life.
We’ve talked though parental illnesses, healing and deaths.
We’ve talked through job searches and changes, successes and failures, triumphs and disappointments.
We’ve talked on the El rides to work, on thousand-mile drives and travels to other lands.
We’ve talked and talked and talked.
Because we’ve talked, I’ve learned how to become a better husband, father and man.
Because we’ve talked, I’ve lived closer to my heart and dreams.
Because we’ve talked, I’ve had the great and good fortune to have a strong, beautiful and passionate woman with whom to weave a life.
After I finish this post, I’ll head off to sleep.
But before the drowsiness overtakes me and the restorative power only sleep can give begins to seep into my body, I’ll lean over to my lovely bride and, for the last time this year, wish her a Happy Valentine’s Day.
Then talk just a little more.