Today is Cindy’s and my tenth wedding anniversary. Wow. Ten years ago I was 31 and she was … younger than that. ;) We had fairly recently moved to Newton, which seems like a distant memory from here in Lexington. I had recently started a new job at Dolphin, to be followed by Mango, Conley/EMC, and Mariko/Revivio. Cindy had recently started at FASTech, to be followed by Lotus/IBM and motherhood. I was still playing volleyball. We had both been reintroduced to the joys of hiking and camping by our mutual friend Scott, but had not yet summited more than a handful of the New Hampshire 4000-footers of which Cindy now has 40+ out of 48 and I have a few less. Amy was only part of an incompletely imagined future – how incompletely we had yet to appreciate – and did not even have a name. Ditto for her cousins Eli and Oliver, and many others new arrivals among our friends. Others have grown up, moved on, passed on, married, divorced, become sick, recovered, received degrees or other honors, changed cities and careers, and made almost every other kind of change imaginable. I don’t feel I’ve changed that much, though it wouldn’t surprise me if someone disagrees, and I don’t think Cindy has either. She’s still the woman I love, still funny and warm and sane and smart and all those other things that led me to propose in the first place.

For those few who haven’t heard the story, it was on top of Mount Chocorua, which is one of the more scenic peaks in the White Mountains. It was Labor Day. Cindy had told me in a previous conversation (half-way down Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park) that if I ever proposed on a mountain it had darn well better be at the top, but I was counting on her having forgotten that. I took advantage of the fact that we often go at different speeds on steep rocky scrambles, such as at the top of Chocorua, to get to the top well ahead of her. I then changed into an extra shirt that I had brought, combed my hair, etc. When Cindy joined me we sat for a while. She was probably just enjoying the view and catching her breath; I was going slightly nuts. You’re probably expecting something dramatic here, but that’s really not my style. I didn’t unfurl a “Marry Me” flag or have a ring flown in by helicopter or anything like that. I just asked. She said yes, after what was probably only a moment but seemed like quite long enough to me thankyouverymuch. Then we had someone take a picture, which we should find when I get home, hung around a while longer, and headed down. Needless to say, we had a lot to talk about while we walked. The rest, as they say, is history.

So, that story told, what better way to celebrate than with pictures of one of that marriage’s happiest outcomes? Obviously I mean Amy, so here she is.

three generations Three generations of pretty women.
shape sorter Amy playing with a shape sorter; note how she has sorted the blocks by color as she takes them out. This is now my desktop picture both at home and at work.
weed puller Amy saw me using this tool to dig out dandelions in the back yard, so of course she tried to help.

There are a couple of videos coming too, but I still have to finish editing them.