I noticed him standing with a group of people, talking and laughing. Frankly, he was hard not to notice. At 6’9”, he stood out, to say the least. But there was something more than just his height; he seemed so confident, so “together.”
As the week went on, we had very little time together, yet when we did find ourselves in the same group, it felt like we were alone. We had short, but meaningful, conversations in the car, at a restaurant, on the airplane. I can talk to anyone but something was just different about him.
My mom claims she heard it in my voice. She says I said his name different than everyone else’s. I’m not so sure I did, but maybe. He was definitely special.
We spent the next week on the phone. Yes, I do mean we spent the week on the phone. Every night, after class, we’d talk. Favorite books, sports, names of future children. We talked about it all. I couldn’t help but wonder, where is this going? My cell phone company knew where it was going: right into overages for the month.
That weekend he came to visit with a group of friends. I didn’t know what to expect, so I prayed for a sign. Father, please, just give me a sign. If he’s the one I’m supposed to date, let me know.
Two days later, in Chicago, four of us stopped to talk to a homeless man. He told us a poem that he made up on the spot. First, he looked at me and did a rhyme about my beauty and smile. Then, he looked at John, and spoke of his kindness and strength. Then, he stopped and said you’re perfect together. I’m not sure what happened next; I’d stopped thinking or listening for a moment, just letting those words you’re perfect together sink in.
It was in that exact spot, 967 days later, John asked me to be his wife. Of course, I said yes.
For the next eight months we worked hard to finish up college and plan our wedding. We dreamed of what life would be like when we were husband and wife.
It’s been five years since July 1, 2006, the day I said I do to John Michael Gleich. We’ve had some fantastic highs and some nearly shattering lows. Our dreams of the idealistic marriage certainly haven’t come true…how could they with two bull-headed people? But it’s been a great five years. For every minute spent crying, we’ve spent two laughing. For every minute spent in a silly argument, we’ve spent two making up. Every day, we get to live life together. Really, what more could I ask for?
I love you, John. Thanks for choosing me every day for the past five years. Know that I’ve chosen you, too, and I promise to choose you every day for the next hundred. Happy anniversary.
