Eight years ago, I married Husband. Best. Decision. Ever.
After some minor mishaps – including bridesmaid wardrobe malfunctions, late arrival at the church (that was me), parking tickets (that was Husband), and a wedding coordinator assigned by the church whose demeanor scared both the children and grown-ups in our wedding party – we were married.
The day was special in so many ways and marked with the time and talents of friends and family. My cousin did the flowers, my talented college buddy was our photographer, my sister-in-law’s angelic voice filled the church, and the husband of my sixth grade teacher – a man we are privileged to call a friend – officiated our service. He gave me the most meaningful gift that day. He paused in the ceremony and asked us to turn toward the pews and soak in the faces of the friends and family who were there to support us in that moment and in the years to come. Due to nerves, most of the ceremony is a blur for me…but that moment of overwhelming love is crystal clear.
Husband and I exchanged these vows:
I enter into a marriage covenant with you
secure in the knowledge that you will be
my constant friend, faithful partner, adventure buddy and one true love.
On this special day, I give to you in the presence of God
my sacred promise to stay by your side
in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow,
through the good times and the bad.
I promise to love you without reservation,
demonstrate honor and respect,
grow with you in mind and spirit,
always be open and honest with you,
and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.
After a few post-ceremony mishaps – like describing to Husband what was in store for him later only to discovered that we were not separated from our driver by a privacy window or realizing that our guests were half-way through a dry cocktail hour because the liquor license was still in my apartment – we arrived at our reception.
Our reception had its fair share of mishaps – like the DJ opening the CD for our first dance to find it empty – but it was more fun than flop. In fact, the DJ had been paying attention to the toasts that made much of Husband and my age difference and in the split second he had to find a “Plan B” for the couple in the middle of the dance floor decided to play Frank Sinatra’s “You Make Me Feel So Young.” I can’t even remember what “our song” was supposed to be. In the end, our DJ gave us one for the ages (and aging)! I mean, really, you can’t go wrong with Old Blue Eyes serenading your entry into married life.
Many of the details of our wedding day have faded. I couldn’t tell you the flavor of the cake or the color of Husband’s corsage, but I do remember the certainty I felt that Husband was the man I wanted to grow old with.
After seeing how Husband handles PMS (me), job losses (him), insane over-scheduling and delusions of grandeur (me again), fatherhood (him) and all the other things that have filled our last eight years, I am even more certain.
He has kept every one of our vows. He has been my constant friend, faithful partner, and adventure buddy.
He remains my one true love.