I do, I mean I did

While at a work conference today, I was lamenting over what I was going to buy Craig for our anniversary. I was quite annoyed since he broke THE RULE and bought me something when we agreed that we wouldn’t buy each other gifts this year. While I should thoroughly enjoy the massage he surprised me with, it almost was not worth the stress of having to figure out how to purchase a gift in return in only a few short hours. My irritation may have been slightly elevated by the feeling that his blatant disregard of our agreement might have been over the guilt he housed from taking Mothers Day to a whole new level of suck this year.

During the gift purchasing conversation, the lady sitting next to me asked how many years we were celebrating. Then she exclaimed, “Oh my! You certainly don’t look old enough to have been married for eight years.” I resisted the urge to hug and kiss this unsuspecting stranger only because it might have been distracting to the other conference attendees.

As I think back to our wedding day, what resonates is that I had an absolute blast at our wedding. Let’s be real here, if there is anything you can take away from your big day, how cool is it that I can say that and mean it? I don’t recall much about the food, the decorations, and all of the minute details. I remember the family, the friends, and the celebration. In fact, we showed the Country Club a level of fun that it certainly had ever seen before. Also, as I look back at our wedding picture, I can’t help but think that I most likely couldn’t fit my left leg in that dress today. If I starved it for a week it might get above the knee. Maybe Kate could play dress-up with it? When on earth was I really a size 0?



In preparation for the wedding, I was terrified about the prospect of erupting into uncontrollable sobs. At that time in my life, I possessed an awkward super-sensitivity to weddings. I cried at every wedding I attended. I cried watching The Wedding Story on TLC. It is quite possible that I may have erupted into tears at the mere utterance of the word wedding. I’m not a hyperemotional person; it’s a phenomenon that was inexplicable. I was petrified that I would start crying at the alter and that I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO STOP. What would they do? I’d feel the pressure of people looking at me and I’d cry more. Then I would try to recite my vows and they would be coming out in sobbing stutters, which is obviously the picture of glamour that every bride wants to paint. I think at one point I entertained learning sign, just as an assurance that I would survive when plagued with a case of the Ridiculous Wedding Cries.

As we proceeded with our vows, I noticed something absolutely shocking. My dear husband-to-be was starting to tear up. For a brief moment, I panicked, waiting for my own flood gates to open. Instead, I laughed. It was one of those highly inappropriate times to laugh, but it just happened. I was so astounded and blindsided by his tears that I couldn’t help but laugh. I giggled through the majority of the vows, which I think was just an outlet for the relief I felt knowing that my own tears were no where to be found. In retrospect, I’m quite surprised that Craig didn’t change his mind at that very moment.