Sound and fury, signifying nothing: Eight years with Maty Bombay

Wedding day, 2006

Maty and I were married 8 years ago today, in the lobby of the Lloyd Center Doubletree Inn.

Last year, on July 9th, Maty left Portland and me bound for Dakar, Senegal to visit her family. I wrote her this letter and gave it to her on the drive to the airport, with instructions not to read it until she was in the air.

My dearest love,
Words cannot express how much I love you. You are the light of my life and I can never be complete without you.
I am very happy that you can go to Senegal to see your family. I wish them love and respect.
I will miss you every day you are gone and I will never stop thinking about you. Always remember that I love you. Never forget that.
I will be happy for you while you are in Africa. And every day I will look forward to the day when we will be together again.
You are my love. You are my life.
Your loving husband,
Dade

Maty would be gone for 37 long days. It was the longest separation we've endured in the 8 years since we've been married.

They say that once you've developed a taste for caviar, you can never go back to canned sardines. The truth of that adage was brought home for me in the time she was gone.

Eight years! Can you believe it, honey? Eight years!