I married this man in the backyard garden of my family home. He had hair then (an afro, to be exact) and wooed me by cooking pheasant that he and his friends had hunted. I wore a ninety dollar hippie dress and a big white hat and his sister sang Judy Collins. We drove off with our U-Haul to San Francisco and experienced what we still refer to as "our two year honeymoon." We were poor. We baked our own bread and lived on food stamps and, when we had our first restaurant meal four months later, it cost us two dollars each. We were very happy, very young and very much in love.
Thirty-seven years later, we have lived together through great joy and deep sadness. We have nurtured a beautiful child to adulthood. We have lost premature twin sons and the hope of having a larger family but, because of this, we"fostered" nine other kids. It has not always been champagne and roses but our hearts are entwined forever because of all the life we have shared.
Thirty-seven years later, we are still very much in love.