The first year we were married, we rented our first apartment together, I graduated from college, we both suffered through the worst jobs we’ve ever had, and we finished our first (and maybe last) marathon together, hand in hand.
The second year we were married, I landed my first teaching job, we went on an Alaskan cruise and to Bryce Canyon, I lost my grandpa, and you were able to finally quit that job you hated so much working at the beef plant.
The third year we were married, I had the worst group of students in the history of the school (and had the daily freak-outs to prove it), you applied to PT school for the first time and we were both bitterly disappointed about you not getting in, and I lost my grandma.
The fourth year we were married, we moved to a different apartment (which made a WORLD of difference), you got called into the bishopric, I got pregnant, we went on one of my favorite trips ever (volunteering at an Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab), we welcomed the most perfect little girl into our family, and you graduated from college.
The fifth year we were married, we found out I had an autoimmune disease, I got my gallbladder removed, we traveled with a three-month-old halfway across the country to Missouri for my dad and stepmom’s wedding celebration, and I finished up my last year of teaching and put in my resignation notice.
The sixth year we were married, you went full-time at your current job, we rejoiced that I was able to enjoy the SAHM life, we traveled to Island Park with your family, we both turned 30, we almost lost your dad and went through one of the worst weeks of both of our lives, you lost your grandma, and we both lost our unborn baby at about 8.5 weeks.
In six years, we’ve been through beautiful highs and some heartbreaking lows, but through it all, I have never doubted in my heart that you were the perfect one for me to spend it all with. You are my eternity, my perfect, and my whole world.
I love you, Matt. Happy six years together!