He Says Yes.

Whereas I say why not. I hadn't realized before there was a difference in these answers. They often get you to the same place. After all, his yes and my why not got us down the aisle. His yes and my why not got us into and through the countless adventures, near misses, hurt feelings, disappointments, tendernesses, breakthroughs, and triumphs that, taken together, are the reasons we hold each other close at night and whisper 'I love you' into ears.

But his yes is different from my why not. My why not still looks for the not; it scans the situation for the answer to its own question. My why not still keeps an eye for the exit.

Not so for his yes. He plunges right in. And when, for example, a vaguely meth-addled bar owner interrupts her rambling, nostalgic monologue to ask, "Do you have 20 minutes?" he says yes. And his yes is rewarded with a field trip to a nearby house and an introduction to a wonderful old lady who is a gardener and an artist and, fortunately for us, lonely enough to take in two strangers and tell them her stories, show them her patio of bricks -- built slowly with the cast-offs of old buildings around town -- and her arrangements of rusty mill saws, engine parts, and railroad ties. His yes stumbles into an oasis of kindness and coolness and earthly toil and calm.

My why not is so lucky to have tagged along. My why not would have found the reason not to a long time before it found that garden. My why not would have missed out on so much.

It's not our anniversary today. It's just that we've had one of those weekends made richer by his yes. And I'm so glad to have him with his fearless and his optimism. So glad for his yes that keeps my life full of mystery, wonder, and awe.