Better than ruby slippers

My husband and I exchanged our wedding vows 30 years ago today. We repeated after the minister. For better for worse. Check. For richer or poorer. Check. In sickness and in health. Check again.

Little did I know that my husband had another vow in mind that he would check off from that day forward. If he had written it in, he would have said, "I will do my best to make all your wishes come true." It's almost as if I was granted the pair of ruby slippers I had always wanted. 

Over the years, he has taken me to places I've always wanted to see. He has given me the most heartfelt gifts. And, he has carefully looked out for me as we've navigated through life together.

When our daughter was born and suddenly I was at home all day with a brand new baby, he brought home a couple of cassette tapes. (Itunes had not yet been invented.) He thought I would enjoy the company of some new music. I loved his thoughtfulness.

I also loved the Gloria Estefan cassette tape he picked out. I sang along to "Don't Want to Lose You" and "Cuts Both Ways." I took the tape in the car, on trips and played it as background music when friends came over. But, somewhere along the way, the cassette disappeared. 

When Christmas rolled around, he asked me what I wanted. I'm sure I gave him quite a list but one thing I knew I wanted was the missing cassette tape by Gloria Estefan.

I wrote: Gloria Estefan tape, the one we had, the one we lost.

Christmas morning arrived. No doubt he had checked off my list. I figured I would find the cassette at the bottom of my stocking. But it wasn't there. He explained. 

He had searched several music stores for Gloria Estefan's, "The One We Had, The One We Lost."  On Christmas Eve, he headed to Tower Records, the largest music story in our area.

"I'm looking for Gloria Estefan's, 'The One We Had, The One We Lost,'" he said to the store clerk. 

She replied, "I've never heard of it."

Slightly irritated, he said, "You must have. We used to have it."

After exhausting all possibilities, she invited him to look through a big box filled with old cassettes they kept behind the counter. After riffling through the box to no avail, he finally gave up. 

Giving up was not an easy task for him since it's not in his nature and he wanted to give me exactly what I wanted.

After telling me the story of how he had searched all the music stores, how he had confronted the store clerk and how he had sat on the floor and dug through the big box of old cassettes, he asked, "Are you sure that's the name of the album?" 

That's when I had to tell him, "No. All I know is, it's the one we had, but we lost it."

I can't remember what his reaction was nor can I remember what I actually got for Christmas that year. However, I will always remember what he went through to give me exactly what I wanted.

In the end, his effort to make me happy was far better than any real gift he could have given me.

The story of the "One We Had, The One We Lost" has been told time and time again. And every time I tell it, I'm reminded of how my husband has spent the last 30 years trying his hardest to give me everything my heart desires. I guess I don't need ruby slippers after all.

With these slippers, I thee wed.