PUBLISHED: 3:35 PM on Wednesday, May 23, 2007
More than just an anniversary
As I fired up the PC to write this column, I glanced at the calendar to verify the date - May 23.

For once I did not forget what May 23 is.

Our anniversary, as in Beth's and my 26th wedding anniversary.

How did it get here so fast?

I once had an editor scold me for writing a column about my family.

In that case I think it was about my daughter's first pronghorn antelope hunt, highlighted by my teenager collecting her buck with a single shot at almost a quarter mile.

I think his theory (he's no longer in the business, by the way) was ours should be an impersonal, detached reporting of the world without showing our own opinion or emotion.

Sorry, but I'm not of that school. Journalism without passion, personal commitment or feelings, is just typing.

Same with marriage. Or life.

Beth and I met in college, which meant growing up together as adults, making that commitment to each other, beginning careers together, becoming parents together, caring for and burying parents and friends together.

It's easy to forget what brought us here.

It's the same passion, excitement, confidence and commitment that comes from making one person the center of your world.

It's a feeling that's missing more and more in our world, and it's neither magic nor luck.

It's hard work: good and easy seldom go together.

It's not the ceremony or the marriage license that ensure longevity or happiness, of course.

It's the commitment and the ability to look deep into another person's soul and see the best, and worst, and love them all the more for both.

Beth and I have had plenty of challenges - in no small part tempered by making half a dozen moves in the newspaper business.

She's always been supportive and willing enough to start over again and again, even when it meant moving to Juneau and leaving our grown kids back in Texas.

We are hardly experts, surely not perfect. In this year, if anything, we've learned how little we do know, and how much we have to work on taking care of each other.

But at the end of the day, whether it's been the best or worst of days, there's only one person I want to share it with.

One person who can heal my wounds, knows what matters to me, challenges me to be more than I can be, scolds me when I need it and most enjoys just being together.

For me, that's what love is.

Leschper is general manager of the Capital City Weekly. Email him at