Happy Valentine's, Melissa

A Seattle couple is celebrating their 70th Valentine's Day together.

Ask the Campbells about what makes for a good life as partners, and they credit family, friends, and those simple things that money just can't buy.

"Those are the happiest times," Don says with a smile. "Having fun, doing the simple things."

I met my wife through the Yahoo dating service, falling in love with her the moment she sang along with the oldies station in the middle of Norma's, a Republican burger joint in Lacey. I fell in love with her again as we chatted for hours walking along the waterfront in Tacoma, as we discovered connection after connection in our vastly different lives, two wildly divergent paths that inexplicably and inextricably ended up at the same place.

I fell in love with her again when we exchanged vows before family, and again before family and friends.

And now I fall in love with her again every morning, when she pretends to sleep as I clatter about in the kitchen, and when she smiles groggily as I leave for school, departing with a sweetly sorrowful kiss.

When she accompanies me to debate tournaments or band gigs or the grocery store or the library. When she cooks breakfast, and lets me prepare coffee and eggs. When she gives up the computer to let me blog, or when she takes it away to work on her Myspace template. When she shares the excitement and frustrations of her classes. When she laughs at my jokes, even the cheesy ones. When she says what I'm thinking.

When she smiles, ah me.

Simple things.

I love you, Melissa. I'll say it every day 'til the day I die, seventy or seven hundred Valentines hence.