Some days I pinch myself. It's hard to imagine that there was a time in my life where, as the old Rodney Dangerfield joke goes, I appealed to everyone who could do me absolutely no good. I was a drunk who didn't have two nickels to rub together that didn't belong to someone else.
Getting sober in October of 1990 was the beginning of a new way of life for me. Those who think that being sober is just a matter of not drinking have no idea what the disease of alcoholism can do to a person. It rips away your soul. There's an old saying that goes like this: religion is for those who are afraid of going to hell, spirituality is for those who've already been there.
Out of the ashes of depravity, emerged a man who slowly began to put his life in order. I found God in the rooms of A.A. and slowly learned how to be a responsible adult. The program speaks of twelve promises; the last of one says that God will do for us what we could not do for ourselves. And that was certainly true for me. I found the strength to be the man He called me to be, instead of the man I would've settled for.
Of all the gifts I received in sobriety, none turned out to be more precious than the woman who would become my wife. When I met Maria in May of 1992, I had no idea that it would be the beginning of the most wonderful journey of my life. We got married on October 8th, 1994. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and Maria was radiant. The image of her walking down the aisle was breathtaking. There we stood, the two of us, exchanging our vows before God, our family and our friends. I was on top of the world.
Over the last 25 years, Maria and I have had our ups and downs, mostly ups. We started out in a one-bedroom apartment over a delicatessen that more closely resembled a walk-in closet than an apartment. We then moved into a two-family house, which we rented for five years until we had saved enough money to put a down payment on a home of our home, where we've lived for the last sixteen plus years.
There's not nearly enough time to list all the blessings I have received from being married to Maria, but I believe the greatest has been her ability to love me unconditionally. It isn't easy living with someone like me. I have the sort of temperament that would try the patience of a saint. I am lazy, judgmental and can be overbearing. Sometimes I wonder how the woman manages to put up with me.
We've shared many good times together and we were there for each other when tragedy took the lives of loved ones, including a couple of dear pets. Like so many couples who dream of growing old together, we have finally arrived at that point in our walk. The vacations we've taken and the memories we've collected are the byproducts of a life that is beyond my wildest dreams. The years have not torn us apart but rather brought us closer and strengthened our bond.
Maria has been the joy of my life. What little I know of compassion, I learned from her. I am ten times the man now than I was when I met her, and if I live to be a hundred, I can never repay her for what she has done for me and for what she has meant to me.
It's hard to believe that it's been twenty-five years since we got married. Where has the time gone? This year we paid off the mortgage on our house and, with Maria just months away from retirement, we are looking forward to spending our golden years together. Not bad for a drunk who couldn't afford to take care of a pair of goldfish.
Thank you, my beloved wife, for putting up with all my bullshit; for forgiving me when I screwed up, even when I didn't deserve it; for not holding the grudges against me I most certainly would've held against you; for being the best part of this man's life; for standing by my side when I was going through my illnesses earlier this year; and for being my dearest and most trusted friend in the world.
I do not know how much longer this marvelous journey of ours will last before the good Lord finally calls us home, but this much I do know. I will honor and cherish you all the remaining days of my life.
Happy anniversary, honey.
Your Chabby,
Peter
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