An Anniversary Tribute to my Hubby

Dear Wes, My Rock, My Steady, My Reason, 

Happy Anniversary to the man who has made every single day of the last 18 years feel like the world’s longest honeymoon, the funniest sitcom, and the best story I could ever dream of telling. 

It’s hard to believe it’s been nearly two decades since that day at a little restaurant in town. I’ll never forget the moment you walked in with your signature stride—confident, unhurried, and somehow magnetic. Destiny, with its impeccable timing, left an empty chair beside me, and without hesitation, you claimed it. You didn’t just sit near me; you sat smack dab in my personal space. 

“Excuse me,” I said, both amused and incredulous, “but are you in my personal space?” 

And then came the five words that changed everything: “Why yes I am, Little Missy!” With your imaginary suspenders pulled up and your voice dripping with playful confidence, you had me at hello—or rather, at “Little Missy.” 

One year later, we stood together as husband and wife, and since then, we’ve built a life that feels like the best kind of story—a romantic comedy with plenty of laughter, love, and the occasional plot twist. You have been my reason, my steady presence in every storm, and my greatest source of joy. 

Today, I find myself sharing this special anniversary with my second chemo treatment. A far cry from champagne and candlelight, but as always, you make even the hardest days feel bearable. Wes, you have stood by me with unwavering love and strength, carrying me when I couldn’t stand, making me laugh when I wanted to cry, and reminding me, over and over again, that we’re in this life together. 

I know I’ve been so wrapped up in sickness lately, but I don’t want this day to pass without saying how much I love you. How much I cherish the life we’ve built together. How much I admire your patience, your humor, and your heart. 

Thank you for being my reason, my person for 18 years of extraordinary love, and for every moment yet to come. I love you more than words—or chemo brain—could ever express. 

With all my heart, 

Christina