Tuesday, June 14, 2011

8 Years Is Only a Drop in the Bucket

Eight years ago today, I was squeezing into the laces of a pure, white gown.  I was forgetting to breathe and wanting the day to hurry hurry hurry but slowly; I wanted every second to be plucked from its timeline and examined before it could be placed back on the speeding light of wedding-day time.

Here's one series of seconds I remember with spotty clarity:

The church was empty, quiet.  Bridesmaids were hidden away somewhere, getting ready for the evening, but I was dressed.  I was sweaty.  I practiced my walk in heels that were never seen under the heaviness of the gown's skirt.  Inside the flowered sanctuary, through a rectangle window, my husband stood at the foot of the chancel's steps.

He stood as if ready for the ceremony to begin, hands clasped firmly behind his tuxedo'd back. 

I opened the door, and he saw me.  Without the halting processional music -- only silence -- I could hurry down the aisle to his side.  We were alone, except for the photographer who'd hidden himself outside the doors, protecting our first glimpse from other glimpses. 

I know brides are usually the focus of the day in terms of beauty and grace.  But oh -- my groom.  He glowed.  He glows.  He's warmth and light and comfort and strength.

In the space of seconds that we'd carved out to give each other before the excitement could begin, I remember wanting to sit down and bury my face in his neck.  I wondered why all the preparation had to keep us apart for so many hours of our day. 

What I don't remember is what we said.  I only remember how it felt to walk towards him in that dim, lofty sanctuary: floaty and pulled and desperate and hopeful and happy.  I'm certain I slipped my fingers into his and that I wasn't ready to be pulled away again before the ceremony could begin. 

I'm also certain that I still feel this way when I walk towards him, this glowing man of my dreams.  Pulled and desperate and happy.  It's compulsory, my walking towards him. 

And lucky for us, we've only had 8 short years of practice; there's still a lifetime left. 

Happy Anniversary, Justin -- I love you, I love you. 

And I love you.


  1. Lovely, thank you for a glimpse into your wedding day.
    Happy Anniversary!

  2. Oh, happy anniversary!! That was just lovely.

  3. Awww, happy anniversary! I remember that feeling of frustration over being seperated for so much of the wedding day.

  4. Happy Anniversary! Celebrate BIG!!! I read a quote that's lingering in my head, "The most important day of your marriage is not the first day but the last day." Keep that lovin' going! :)

  5. oh that made me tear up. beautiful. happy anniversary!

    i had a pre-wedding moment just like that almost 8 years ago, too. still feel the same, too. ah, love. :)

  6. Such a beautiful moment, Sarah. Happy anniversary!

  7. Oooooohhh. So romantic! And beautifully told. When are you going to write a whole book that I can read?? Soon? Okay then.

  8. Happy Anniversary Sarah & Justin!!!!


  9. So darn sweet and fantastic, just like you guys. Congratulations on another anniversary!!!

  10. Happy Anniversary, so happy for you two!! And sorry I'm a little late.


Hmm...And how did that make you FEEL?