And in Health

On my father's 38th birthday, long after he'd been relegated to "confirmed bachelor" status by his family and friends, he went out on the last blind date of his life.

After two decades of dating, he knew exactly what he wanted in a potential mate: someone with a good heart who wouldn't bother him too much.

I'm not kidding about the second part.

I find it hard to believe that no one else met those exacting criteria before my mother came along, but there it is.

Lucky for us all that none of her predecessors met the mark.

My father was smart enough to move quickly—he married my mother exactly four months after their first date. (I didn't come along for another two and half years, so don't get any ideas.)

Today is their forty-third wedding anniversary.

In all those years, I don't think a day has passed that my father hasn't marveled at his good fortune.

If you know my mother, you know that she has the world's largest heart.

Well, one of the largest.

My dad's got the other one.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.