Celebrating 13 years of that good old pine box commitment

I sometimes joke that we got married on Oct. 22, 1995 because the Cowboys had a bye and we could probably get most of our families to attend.

We did announce our intentions to wed rather suddenly and with very short notice (how quickly can you get married in Texas? Marry her now before she changes her mind!) so the fact that America's Team didn't dominate Sunday's tube probably helped with attendance that afternoon at the VFW Hall near Lake Belton.

It wasn't a big crowd. Maybe 30, 35 people, mostly family. My kids, hers. Mom couldn't make it from Pueblo in time and brother Daniel was stuck delivering the Sunday San Antonio Express News but both of Tia Rae's parents were there. So were all her siblings. So did Dad and my brother, Eddie and a double-handful of important friends and colleagues.

It was emotional, we all had a good cry. Beers were consumed. So was a table-full of donated barbecue. Later, we noted that the bingo signs were in just about all the decent photos of the event. One wit noted the propriety of the location, as this represented a second swing at that pine box commitment for both of us; we were both veterans of the wars.

So, maybe that's why it was no big deal when she suggested we not make a big deal out of our anniversary this year. Frankly, we try to celebrate our commitment to each other every day — at least, in some fashion.

In fact, we're doing a lot, right now. We're remodeling the house and that's soaking up just about all our money and excess energy. We're going to New York City the weekend before Christmas (in lieu of Christmas presents) and that pretty much wiped out the few shillings we had left.

Further, we usually "buy something for the house" rather than going overboard with nights on the town or gooey gifts; rather, we save that sort of thing for Christmas and birthday.

Still, the day must be marked. Thirteen years may not seem all that long a time to be married, but, in these later days, it's still worth noting. Okay, a high school buddy just reminded me that she's been married 25 years (all to the same guy! Go figure!) and a local couple, with whom we share a love of fine food and wine, spades, community theater and Longhorn football (and basketball and baseball), will soon celebrate their 35th. So, I acknowledge that there are many couples our age who've figured it out.

No, 13 years isn't all that long a time to be married. Just a lifetime ... and no time at all.

She calls me her kite-flyer and she's my kite. Fellow travelers in more ways than one. Best friends. Lovers.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart! Thank you for being you!