Sixteen Years

When I was a teenager in the 80’s my favorite movie was Sixteen Candles.

I thought it was cool. And even in her angst-ridden haze of 15 going on 16, I thought Samantha had a pretty charmed life. She had a postcard family and lived in a great house. Sure, her grandmother was a little bit of a loose cannon, and she had to endure stare-downs and panty raids from the geek squad. But really, who wouldn’t want to be Samantha? She kissed the geek and ran off into the sunset with Jake, the most handsome and sensitive guy to walk the planet.  And he had a Porsche! Did it even matter that her family forgot her birthday?

I remember seeing this movie for the first time (I was 15 too), wondering… when will I meet my prince?

The answer unbeknownst to me was… I already did.

I kissed my prince on the cheek in the middle of bike path at the tender age of 11. He gave me a Hershey’s Kiss necklace that summer from the school fair. I still have it in my jewelry box.

After that summer I became boy-crazy, yet I didn’t have a date or another kiss until I was 16. From that time on, I had a few boyfriends, a lot of crushes, a lot of tears and angst, and an overwhelming need to find my Jake.

But I had already found him in 1979, the boy with the dark-hair, blue eyes, and crooked smile.  On that bike path.

I married him on February 11, 1995 when I was 27.

So, isn’t it ironic? I longed for my prince only to have had him right under my nose all the time.

He was and is equal parts Jake and Geek. The best parts, rolled into one.

And here we are, sixteen candles since our wedding day.

Still sweet as ever.

Happy Anniversary, Honey.

 
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