On February 17th, 2005, I was given a little notebook by a girl I was dating at the time. We had only been together for nearly a month and she wanted to get me a little gift for my birthday. She picked out a little leather-bound notebook that she thought would fit my personality and encouraged me to start writing things down. She said I should write quotes, occurrences, stories I’d heard, thoughts and prayers. Anything and everything.
When she handed me the notebook I opened the first page to see nothing but my name followed by a comma. She said it was an accident. She had meant to write a short message to me inside the book’s jacket, but decided not to, only after writing my name. She asked me to tear the page out, but I wanted to keep it. I liked the way it looked.
As the years went by the girl stuck with me (who knows why) and after April 25th, 2009 I have the honor of calling her my wife. I can’t describe how blessed I am to have her in my life. We are still growing up together between our two children. One here now and another on the way. I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have done half the things in my life without her encouragement and support, including taking on the task of writing.
And so today, on her birthday, I wanted her to know how much she’s meant to me. I’m gratefully for her love and I can’t imagine anything she would have written on my birthday, those years ago, would replace the gift she’s given me. A life with her. A life with our family. Our life after the comma.