This week I’m taking a detour from client engagements and leadership consulting to share something personal: I have a milestone wedding anniversary coming up. I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about my husband, Bill, and I’m sharing it here. I won’t ask how this impacts your work or how you might change. This is nothing other than a tribute to my sweetie.

When we got married 40 years ago, I couldn’t imagine this much time. How can anyone imagine a stretch longer than their own life? Now, on this week of our 40th anniversary, I am remembering the circling appreciation exercise we did 29 years ago, and I want to do it again.
So here it is, sanitized substantially, so it doesn’t embarrass our kids: the Facebook version.

Thank you for knowing this year needed to be marked and celebrated. Planning it has made me both reflective and sentimental, two beautiful emotions.
Thank you for your steadiness, your reliability, your deep, deep devotion. I have never once woken up wondering where Bill was. I have never once gone to sleep wondering if you’d be here. What a foundation to launch a life from. What a gift!
Thank you for encouraging a career that has been the farthest thing from secure. For getting excited with me. For depositing my checks before I lose them. For being there when I earned my Certified Speaking Professional (CSP) designation, and for proofreading my blog every single week. For telling me to stick with it. And for once saying, “Treat me like your client.” It only took once.
Thank you for being a father who was, and still is, ALWAYS there. You bring our kids the same steadiness and the same devotion, given freely. There’s more, so much more but this is the Facebook version.
Thank you for the tireless care you gave my parents as they aged. There is nothing more romantic, nothing sexier, than watching your husband love your aging parents. Well there is but this is the Facebook version.
Do you remember the towel you hung in our first apartment? We have evolved. You no longer ask why we need coordinated napkins, and now you ask where they are. And I no longer care which ratty towel you use, because no one can see them in the warm, welcoming home we’ve built.

Thank you for always driving, for the best route, and for the safe speed so I can sleep, with my favorite snacks within arm’s reach. You drop me right at the door so I can walk into any event effortlessly. The perfect metaphor for our entire marriage.
Thank you for getting the gas, changing the light bulbs, reaching the tall shelves, and playing brilliantly on seven-eighths of the pickleball court so I can say we won.
Sweetie, clearly we have won. There’s more, but this is the Facebook version.



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