Three Hundred And Sixty Three Days

That's what Andrew said to me before he left for a few business meetings this morning.

It's hard to explain how I feel about the approach of our first official anniversary date, it's a combination of surprise, fear, terror, enthusiasm, and continuing apprehension. But I can also tell you without hesitation that we have enough little moments, the ones when I burst into laughter so hard that my stomach hurts, that it makes it easy to forget that there was a time when I was certain that I'd never get married.

In the months following our engagement and marriage we went through a lot, including the South Florida real estate collapse and a breast cancer scare, both of which, thankfully, we seemed to have dodged. However, we also experienced events like the passing of my father, becoming parents to another puppy, and being corporately relocated across the state, which completely changed our lives.

Somewhere along the way I learned how truly intimate the act of being a husband and wife is, and that all of those people who told me that it's exactly the same thing as living together totally lied. It makes me want to forewarn any other woman out there who is considering tying the knot that one day you'll be folding your husband's socks while watching a rerun of the volleyball scene in Top Gun and then BAM it will occur to you just how many nights you've spent awake listening to his snoring or enduring endless discussions about differences in weed wackers.

And you'll say to yourself, "Wow. It's so worth it."