Twists, turns and 17 wonderful years

I was sitting in the front seat of my car a few minutes ago, waiting for a parking space to open.

My son and his fiancee were occupying the space, and they were carrying some things down from our apartment to load into the car. They're getting married Friday and moving to Washington, D.C., in about two weeks as Virgile starts his career in the Foreign Service. It means we'll have a true empty nest, with both our children traveling around the world for their careers.

Nicole carried a few things down too, and I found myself watching her in the headlights and remembering for about the one-millionth time why I love her so much. In 20 days, on Sept. 12, it will be the 17th anniversary of the day we met. Just 51 days later, on Nov. 2, it will be our 17th wedding anniversary.

Can a life really change so much in that short a time?

I'm here to tell you it can. When I married my first wife in 1975, I was 25 and she was 21. A month after my 30th birthday we had separated for good. I know I loved her -- it's tough to hear a lot of songs from the '70s without thinking of her -- but I know we got married for all the wrong reasons.

Nearly 13 years separated the end of the first marriage and the beginning of the second, and there were certainly other opportunities. For one reason or another, though, I was still single in the summer of 1992 when I met Nicole.

I used to occasionally wonder what it would have been like if I had met her younger and we had had a child of our own, but I rarely think of that anymore. I have the most wonderful daughter and the most amazing son; Pauline and Virgile are not just high achievers but geniunely nice people as well.

Now Virgile is getting married and I will have a lovely daughter-in-law. Someday, God willing, there will be a lot more grandchildren. They may not have my blood, but just like their parents, they will have my heart.

And as I sit and look at my wife through the headlights, I know one other thing.

I'm married to the most beautiful grandmother in the world.