My wife and I are approaching our thirtieth wedding anniversary. We got married in Berlin during the first week of February in 1985. Neither one of us is all that certain about the date. If the specific date actually mattered I could dig out the documents the German government gave us memorializing the ceremony. We had to get them translated before we returned to the states so we have two sets of documents with the official date on them. I’m not sure where either set is. We also have some ticket stubs from a performance of the ballet Giselle at the Deutsche Oper on Bismarckstrasse in Berlin. They have a date on them, too. I used to know how that date related to the date of our wedding, but I’ve honestly forgotten. I think we went to the ballet the next day, but I can’t swear to it. I do know that it was cold as hell the entire week. The morning of our wedding it was six degrees Fahrenheit. The ceremony itself was quick and remarkably inexpensive. We had to pay a fee of DM21, which, at the time, was between six and seven dollars. It’s my understanding that most weddings these days cost a good deal more. Too bad. Ours was perfect and making it more expensive would not have made any difference. It is strange to think that our wedding was so long ago that the currency we used to pay the wedding fee, German marks, no longer exists. I know that we enjoyed an enormous dinner at our favorite Greek restaurant that evening. The restaurant was right across the street, Albrechtstrasse, from our apartment. We ate and drank until we could do no more of either, and then we stumbled back across the street to begin spending the next thirty years together including a couple of weeks on Crete in May of that same year. My memories of our years in Berlin and our time on Crete are still vivid even if some of the details are fading. Their importance in terms of who I became will never fade, and for those years and for those memories I will always remain grateful.