Twenty-Four Years

Let me tell you a little about us.

Twenty-four years ago, I married a man our friends would probably call a lot like me. We both came up in music. We’re both singers. We’re both deeply curious, and we both love our people well. But the way we move through the world could not be more opposite, and that has turned out to be the best part.

Where I take risks, Ben hunkers down. He wants a budget sheet. I’m already ready to spend. For a long time, I thought that meant we were a problem to each other. It turns out we’re the answer. He steadies what I send flying. I loosen what he holds too tight. We both bring the other something they need, and because of it, we each get to thrive in a wider, newer, more expansive way than either of us could alone.

We have lived so many lives in these twenty-four years, and our love has deepened through every one of them. We chose to grow together. And just as much, we gave each other the room to do our own changing, our own learning, our own becoming. We have handed each other a lot of grace. We’re also both stubborn as hell, which is probably a lifelong project for the two of us. But we love each other fiercely, and I can’t imagine a single day of my life without him beside me.

He is my partner. He is my favorite.

I used to be sure we could never work together. I think we’ve finally arrived at the place where we can. Twenty-two years ago, on tour, he might have dropped my luggage on the ground and walked off. Now? I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t drop it on purpose. We’ve come a long way.

Twenty-four years ago, we were two people trying to figure out how to be fully ourselves and fully in love at the same time. Without the trappings of what a man is supposed to do, what a woman is supposed to do, what a husband owes, and what a wife owes. We never fit those molds to begin with, and we still fumbled our way through how to adult, how to relate, how to parent, how to love each other well. Year by year, through hard seasons and good ones, through every mistake and every celebration, through every loss and every gain, we have learned a little more. And we have loved a little more fully.

That’s the story of us, all the way to now, on this anniversary, bab. I want you to know this.

Lately I’ve felt how fragile all of it is. It’s been a heavy month, with more than one reminder that nothing is promised, that a whole life can turn in the space of an hour. So I keep landing in the same place. I get to spend mine next to you. I don’t take a day of it for granted. Not one. When the ground goes uncertain under us, you’re the one I reach for. And I know you do the same. And twenty-four years in, we’ve realized that’s enough to hold us steady.

The magic was always there between us. And now it seems we’re finally getting to play with it a little more. Life hasn’t gotten easier. We’ve just learned, somewhere along the way, the necessity of savoring it. The depth. The fullness. The magic of all of it.

You are my partner. You are my favorite.

Happy anniversary, bab. Twenty-four down, and I’d choose every one again.

PS. I love that you’ve finally come around to watching movies and shows with me. And I love that we found a sport, pickleball, that I actually get to play with you. Go sports.

I love you. Mel