40

My husband turned 40 today.
Our first date was on the eve of his 19th birthday. We went to see a late showing of 'Pet Sematary' and I sang, very quietly, 'Happy Birthday' to him at midnight. A year later, I took him on a surprise trip from University to London. This is him, twenty years ago to the day, in St James Park:

Just one year later, on his 21st, we got engaged:

(Sometimes people ask me where my little girl gets her blonde curls from. 'Her dad,' I say, pointing, but I have this picture in my mind and the years show most in his hair!)

I can remember very clearly, the summer after we first got together, saying, on the spur of the moment, 'Why don't we get engaged?' I think he thought, to begin with, that I was joking, but I knew then which way we were headed and it seemed like a fun idea to surprise peoplebefore they expected it. Surprisingly, he didn't run away screaming, and 18 months later, he proposed. In looking at these photos this morning, I was suddenly struck by the fact that we got engaged just two years after first getting together and I was only twenty. It seems so quick, so young. And yet, on his fortieth birthday we are still together, with a beautiful family, so I guess is was ok!

I have grown up with this man. We have changed from naive teenagers to mature (well, sometimes!) adults with three young lives to be responsible for. I hope that we will grow old together and have many more adventures along the way.