Today is our 25th wedding anniversary.

A milestone that deserves champagne and laughter, a dinner somewhere special, maybe even a moment to look back on the life we’ve built and say, “We did this.” And in a way, we have.

Twenty-five years ago today, I stood beside Doug on what remains one of the best days of my life. Like most marriages, ours has weathered storms, challenges that tested us, strengthened us, and brought us into a rhythm that holds something deeper than I ever imagined. A love rooted in shared history, quiet glances, and the kind of intimacy that grows only through time.

Today began with a tempered hope. Doug had a neurology appointment, and my only worry was not having answers. Instead of toasting, I’m angry that we have no answers. Just a shrug and the suggestion that maybe his unrelenting head pain is due to aspirin, Tylenol, or Advil that he’s taking for the head pain and were told to “wean off over-the-counter meds.” Regarding his consistent high BP, over six months we’ve tried new blood pressure medicines trying to get that under control, just to be told to “quit bouncing around with BP medicine.” WTH? We aren’t doing that for fun. It was at the recommendation of his PCP.

The MRI showed no mass and while that’s undeniably a blessing, I walked out of without any direction, just a deep ache in my chest that comes from watching the person you love most suffer… and having to decide what to do next. But I digress.

May 13th, it’s not just the date I remember it’s the way Doug looked at me when we said, “I do.” The way we danced. The laughter. The shared dreams of what our life might be.

And so, even as I sat with frustration and anger at a medical system that seems to see Doug as a chart and not a human being, I chose love. Even as I grieve the quiet way dementia continues to take little pieces of him and us, I remind myself of who we are. Who my guy is. Who who’ll always be.

My sister, bless her heart, made us a beautiful gourmet dinner. She even tucked away a small surprise just for me, a reminder that love shows up in quiet acts of kindness when you need them most.

This is life on the dementia path. It’s layered. Complicated. Heartbreaking.
But it’s also still filled with love. SO MUCH LOVE!

Doug doesn’t remember it’s our anniversary and that’s ok because for 24 years he did. Today, I remember for both of us. I hold the weight of the day the joy, the grief, of no answers, and the endless tenderness it takes to keep going.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but I know this, life is good. My guy still makes me laugh. He still hugs me goodnight and says, I love for no reason.  That love through the ache, the laughter, the memory, and the forgetting is the kind that lasts a lifetime.