This weekend was my 12 year wedding anniversary. Actually, it was both of ours… mine and Phil’s.
And as he was helping me up from the couch for the umpteenth time, so I could hobble to the bathroom, my arms tucked protectively around my healing bellybutton, I asked him…
“Isn’t this just how you pictured it? 12 years ago? When you saw me walking down the aisle toward you?”
To backtrack a little…and to be altogether honest… our wedding day turned out to be a day that I could never have pictured. I pictured a bright, beautiful October day. A day chosen PRECISELY because it was supposed to be a bright, beautiful October day. Plus, it was the only weekend the Longhorns weren’t playing that fall… seriously, people… I couldn’t make our friends choose between us and the Horns. I just wasn’t that confident that we’d come out on top ;)
Oh, and P.S.?? The forecast hadn’t mentioned rain. Well not until a few days before. Not a drop had fallen. Not a drop fell until after our rehearsal dinner. As I was getting in the car to head home after the dinner, I stood at the door to say good-night to my soon to be husband, and I watched the first raindrops come down. Giggling, I ducked into the car, waved bye, and headed home for my last night as a single woman. The rain started in earnest after midnight.
You know that Alanis Morrisette song, “Ironic”? The line… ‘it’s like rain on your wedding day’… that’s not irony, people. It’s just a sucky forecast. It’s just chance.
And despite the fact that it rained 12 inches in just a few hours… despite the fact that about ¼ our guests could not navigate the flooded streets to make it to the wedding… despite the fact that they actually CLOSED OFF sections of the interstate (crazy, I know!)… in spite of it all, we still were married. And we still had a blast at our reception with our friends and our family. And we were every bit as happy, even if we’d had to stomp through puddles and huddle under umbrellas to make it all happen.
Because it gave us a good head-start. Marriage can be a lot of stomping through puddles. And holding umbrellas over one another.
And sometimes, one or the other can forget to do that, and can let the other one down. Let the person they love most in the world get a little bit drenched. Drenched by the worries of the world. The weight of life around us. Not intentionally or purposefully, but it can happen nonetheless.
But if you’re lucky and extraordinarily blessed, that doesn’t happen very often. And your umbrella-holder holds your elbow as you leap together across the puddle.
And me? I am lucky. And extraordinarily blessed.
My husband is an amazing person who still makes me laugh after 20 years together. He helps me to the potty after I’ve had surgery. He gave me three beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies, and he makes me a better person.
I love you, Prince Philip. You are my umbrella-holder. :)
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