Happy anniversary, Jan

I married the most amazing woman almost 37 years ago. She is possessed of an inexhaustible wellspring of love, of which I am the principal but by no means the only beneficiary; kindness, thoughtfulness, good judgment informed by common sense, often superior to mine.

Together, we raised two fine children, and she did most of the heavy lifting. With respect to our parenting roles, I was mostly the good-time Charlie with the kids, enjoying and having fun with them, and she was the loving, tender caregiver and sometime disciplinarian. To this day, if my kids become sick, it's mom they call.

She sometimes did things that I was unable to do because of my job, and she was there for them during the day, as they grew up. She was the one who took my daughter Kelly to St. Joe's ER after a terrible burn on Kelly's wrist; it was I who rushed to the hospital from Dearborn.

It was she who first learned about a car accident on Belleville Road in which my son Matthew was involved. Envision the scene: she's in the Belleville High School auditorium for a school-related assembly, when former Van Buren Schools Superintendent Jim Richendollar walks up behind her. He whispers to her that Matthew has been taken to a hospital after a car accident, but he doesn't know the details.

Off she went, again alone. I joined her at the hospital, again traveling from Dearborn. In both cases, the kids were fine, although Kel still has a subtle scar on her wrist.

Apart from emergencies, she insisted, despite the blandishments of Ford Motor Company, that I be there for them, even as a crisis at work sometimes beckoned. We were there for our kids' practices, games, recitals. Soccer, track, cross country, basketball, dance, proms - we did these together, and I'm so glad we did. She's been teaching me now for many years about what's truly important in life, and I'm so glad I listened.

And so, together, we raised our children and lived our lives. Looking back on it, it's amazing how all the time has passed, but pass it did.

We met in 1972 in Auburn, New York. I was attending a nearby college, and she had enrolled as a freshman at Auburn Community College. My sister was her roommate, and with my father I was painting the kitchen of the apartment in which they would room with a couple other girls during the school year.

I was on a stepladder, and my back was to her as she entered the room. She said later that she was taken aback by my appearance, explaining that she had thought I was my sister's younger brother. One thing led to another, we began dating, mostly over games of chess - neither of us had any money - graduated, married about a year later, moved to Michigan to begin my career with Ford, had our two children a few years later.

Throughout it all, she's been my extraordinary and loving helpmate, nay, partner. She still writes notes to me that I see in the morning, on the computer keyboard on which I'm now typing. This morning's message: "You are my very favorite person!"

I've learned much from her, particularly how to behave toward and to care for others. I've said that, wherever I am, if I'm with her, I'm with the nicest person in the room.

Happy anniversary, Jan. Here's to many more. I love you.