Memories are funny things. There are some details of the past that we remember, and other details are forgotten forever.
Twenty-two years ago today I went to a high school football game. My brother was playing on one of the teams, and my fiance was coaching that same team. It was a perfect autumn day … the sun shining brightly, the air crisp, the leaves on the trees in the early stages of turning from bright green to hues of gold and red. It is a day I remember so well, because it was the day of the biggest argument of our dating relationship … the day before our wedding.
I have no idea what we were arguing about, I can only remember the intensity of the emotions I felt. Obviously, whatever it was that had vexed us was resolved, and the following day I met him at the end of the aisle, where we traded in our individual lives for a future together.
The memories of our wedding day decrease with each passing year. If there are this many fewer memories after twenty-two years, will I even remember that I am married in twenty-two more?
But, what I do remember are the vivid broad strokes of our day.
I remember that our wedding started late, and it wasn’t because I was trying to be fashionably late … our soloist was flying into New Brunswick from Toronto, and his flight was late.
I remember that the pastor we had to marry us thought he was at a preach-a-thon … he spoke for about an hour after the processional, before actually marrying us.
I remember that my mother in law wore gray … much cheerier than the black that her mother wore at her wedding.
I remember that, as I looked at my groom awaiting me at the end of the aisle, he was gray (like his mother’s dress), and looked as though he might pass out … so much for the groom’s look of awe at the brides glowing beauty …
So, not all memories are so sweet but, alas, my memories of our wedding day were also not all so depressing.
I remember a twinge of regret as my dad ‘gave me away’ to my groom.
I remember how confident I felt as I repeated my vows, and said ‘I do.’
I remember that when my groom slipped his ring (a most simple band) on my finger I could not imagine a more wonderful, a more exquisite piece of jewelery in the world.
I remember gladly signing my name on the marriage license.
I remember driving off to our honeymoon (a trip, by car, of over 3000 miles … one way … and hubby wonders why I have little interest in road trips), reliving the details of the day, together.
The memories of that day fill my mind and my heart at times like this, when we remember and celebrate our corporate survival, and our hope of many years to come.
Happy Anniversary Hubby