Slightly over one week into our engagement and some eleven months before our wedding, Abby and I have already begun to grow old together. Or, at least, I have begun to grow old, according to Abby.

Yesterday, as we were taking a walk together during our break at the Press, Abby pointed out that I have a gray hair growing on the side of my head. She has made similar observations at other times, but this time she gleefully claimed responsibility for causing the gray. I wasn’t overly concerned, because some gray might do wonders for my credibility. Nevertheless, Abby sought to reassure me that I would look distinguished with gray hair. Her quick reassurances got me worrying about exactly how many gray hairs she intends to give me.

All the above is written in jest. The truth behind the joke is that we both very much hope that we are laying the foundations for a marriage that will last . . . well past the time that Abby turns gray too.