This handsome little guy turns 55 today. The only boy out of five sisters.

I met this little guy when he was just four years old. Little did I know, or perhaps I did, but he would turn out to be the love of my life.

You see, this is my Johnnie. The man I’ve been married to for almost 30 years.

Oh how I recall seeing him for the first time in highschool. I was a freshman and he was a senior. I can still see that dark blue winter jacket he wore with the fake fur collar (yes, that was in then). His hair hung just a smidge over the back of his collar.  The jacket he loved and called it his “cop jacket” because he thought about being a policeman.

We didn’t date in highschool, but oh, how I admired him from afar. After he graduated he went off to college, which turned out to not be what he wanted in life. He returned to our small town six months later.

I was half way through my sophomore year when I was walking home one night with my friend. He pulled up in his big brown Pontiac and asked me if I wanted a ride home. I knew that first night with him that I loved him.

I don’t recall when we discovered this other piece of the story, but it still makes me smile to this day. We came to find out that when my mom was pregnant with me, she and my dad had rented a cabin. And you’ll never guess who was staying next door?

Okay, so you guessed right. It was John’s family. He was four years old. I like to say that I peeked out of my mom’s belly button, saw John, and said, “I’m going to marry that guy some day.”

So I say a very Happy Birthday to the little guy that is now all grown up. How absolutely lucky and grateful I am for him. The love of my life. The one who is always making me laugh. Who is always making me feel special. Who is the most kindest and hard working man.  Happy Birthday my dear Johnnie.