Two dozen years ago, I was a pariah. I was the geeky kid the other kids punish for existing. I was the common enemy that united my little adolescent world.
A dozen years ago I was single, poor, and despondent. I didn’t see a professional future, my relationships were bad jokes, and I didn’t know what I was going to do.
A half-dozen years ago I married a woman who outclasses me in every way. She’s a wonderful wife, and the kind of mother I wish every child could have. We’re lucky enough not to live in the path of a hurricane, or the shadow of a fallen tower. We’re healthy, and our children are healthy and beautiful. I look forward to coming home at the end of the day. Our son starts public preschool next week, and we couldn’t be happier about it. I like my job. I love my family.
Her name isn’t Grace, but it should be.
Happy birthday, honey.
