The suitcases of cake, and the raised TSA eyebrows to boot.
The husband I met in Houston 24 years ago and our date nights with you.
The cake we ship each year for our anniversary, and the fights over who takes bigger pieces. (We love each other, but Diner Cake love? Different echelon.)
The son whose middle name is Kirby, and not because of Twins baseball legend Kirby Puckett (sorry, MN).
The neighbor who rang our doorbell with the surprise slice he gingerly shepherded home from a business trip.
The sampler box my best friend sent as I navigated a year of scary and uncertain health issues.
The joy of our boys voting for TX over Disneyland (!) so they could choose their own suitcase slices.
The steadfast and comforting line you have been through our evolving lives together. Now 20 years of marriage across multiple states, apartments, houses, babies, celebrations and sorrows.
Forever love, from us to you. As long as you’re there, we will be, too. - Clare S.