Yes, it has been 28 years since we stood in the living room of our pastor in Alton, Illinois, and took the vows that both of us swore we would never take again. As victims of failed first marriages we hesitated at taking the plunge again.
The odds looked bad — an unrepentant womanizer marrying an actress. Friends feared it wouldn’t last. Enemies hoped it wouldn’t last. The betting pool that someone formed stopped at three years: Nobody gave it longer than that.
But it lasted, surviving a career that required me to spend most of our marriage on planes and away from you on too many anniversarys. It lasted through my alcoholism and it was your love and support that helped me face the demon 13 years, six months and 19 days ago to take that first step to sobriety.
Happy anniversary my love. We’d made it to 28 years. Who’d a thunk it?