This is Justin. I’m hijacking Shay’s blog today to wish her a happy anniversary. We’ve been married for fourteen years. Most of that time, she’s been battling synovial sarcoma, a rare and scary type of cancer. That disease exacts a heavy toll and demands a lot of sacrifices. A lesser person might retreat from the world and it would be understandable.
Instead, Shay faces every challenge with courage and grace and there seems to be no limit to everything she accomplishes while she is fighting this battle. Many of you know her so you know what I’m talking about. Some of you may not so I put together a list of things you should know about my wife.
- My wife is a wildly successful businesswoman
- My wife is an excellent mother and does most of the hard work raising our son (I’m in charge of math homework and sex ed.)
- My wife manages our home practically by herself (I’m relegated to moving heavy objects and Aidan is, well, useless)
- My wife does a great Mitch McConnell impersonation. Next time you see her, you should ask her to do it
- My wife has a kind, generous heart (please stop sending her pictures of stray pets that need homes!)
- My wife once drank a Dos Equis with The Most Interesting Man in the World – and found him to be a tedious bore
- My wife is sexy and fun
- My wife transformed me from an insufferable tool into the reasonably decent man that you all have begrudgingly learned to love
- My wife is better than your wife. Just kidding. (No I’m not)
- My wife is the bridge that connects me to the rest of the world
What I really want to say to my wife, Shay, is this: For fourteen years, our marriage has been a seamless masterpiece. That is no surprise. We love all the same stuff: Indie rock, drinking in fancy restaurants, House Hunters reruns, and each other. We’ve had a great time, but there’s a lot more to come. I have it all planned out. I won’t go into all the details here, but I’ll tell you how it ends: I die of a heart attack in 2059 while the two of us are engaged in a relatively exotic and certainly ill-advised episode of gross old people sex. In the meantime, though, there’s a lot of living to do together. First I need you to beat the shit out of this FUCKING cancer. Seriously. It’s enough with that nonsense already. I know it is becoming a little more difficult and a whole lot scarier lately, but I’ll be at your side the whole time. Let’s get it done for good this coming year. I love you. Happy anniversary.