It’s funny how the things I wrote then – while true – are actually much more evocative and realized today. It’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. They were mere truth seeds – powerful in their makeup and design – but not yet fully or half bloomed through. Now to be fair, full bloom takes forever or never and a day, if it happens at all. But oh – the potential and beauty! It’s thick. It can overrun your garden, and the the soil and the foundation will just expand to fit it all in. I’ve seen this.
The things I say today, are some things I’ve said before but I can’t even begin to tell you how true they are today. How messy it all is – like your blooming garden – wet and naked, dry and warm, always changing, always needing change, always finding a way to crack, to bend, to grow, to bloom, to rest, and to do it all again. And again. When they crack, they let the light in.
There is just so much to say about nine years ago that I can barely write. His Converse. My hair. His hair. The Jedi Knight robe. Moose and wolf light projections on the tent. A horse and carriage? Yes, a horse and carriage. It was that or a golf cart.
Showing Scarlet and Des pictures of the horse and carriage is MUCH more satisfying. “Oooooh,” they breathe when they look at the wedding photos. Look at you!” Look at us indeed. And of course, nine years in the blink of an eye? Well, no. Not when you fill in those lightning quick years with long days of cross country driving and two pregnancies, and tons of “LOST” and “Doctor Who” watching. And this crazy journey of child-rearing. Sometimes, it’s hard. Like the know-it-alls said it would be.
Those same people who tell us to hug our children tight because “time goes so fast and you’ll blink and they’ll grow up.” Well, I hug those children nearly 12 hours a day and I couldn’t possibly do it more, short of keeping them up all night. And still time will go so fast and I’ll blink and they’ll be grown. Then I might be sad. And what will I be left with? Well, other than the knowledge that I raised two great kids into two great adults? You. You are left, standing with me. This is what we planned.
So yes, it can be tough. I think we’re hard on each other a lot, due to stress and dreams too big to fit into a world with sometimes narrowing choices. We always dreamed BIG. We still dream big. And, we will always dream big. And I’m talking big. Maybe not fly away in a Tardis big, but as close as you can get to that. Northern lights and a place where moose and wolves co-exist in relative harmony. More Bruce Hornsby nights. These are all real. And oh, what a gift that is.
I confess that one of my most vivid thoughts on my wedding day was this: “Oh man. Will my waist stay this way after children?” It’s the little, strange things you remember. The little, petty thoughts that stay in your head. The things that don’t really matter. So it’s ok to say it did/does matter to me, and I’m happy to say that I love my waist today, like I did then.
I confess I never had a single shred of doubt about the man I was marrying. I mean, you read this, right? No room for doubt. Cold feet in general? Yes. The whole thing was a mind trip for me. The relatives, the flying, the being the center of attention.
I confess that I didn’t enjoy all of the reception much – my stomach and feet hurt greatly. However, the ceremony was one of the single most meaningful, spiritual and enjoyable 45 minutes of my life. I was in an all-around love trance.
As I mentioned above, I confess that the choices to get up the hill to the ceremony were: on foot in silver shoes, in a golf cart, or in a horse-drawn wagon. I felt a little strange taking the wagon, but I admit it had style. In the carriage with my parents we said, “Is this really happening? Is this real? Pinch me? After all that..this..it’s happening?”
And, I confess that I don’t really remember what the cake tasted like but LOOK at it! Whenever I looked around after the cake had been served, I smiled to see some of our favorite people eating chocolate moose and chocolate skulking wolves.
And that the song I chose for the father/daughter dance was “Drive” by The Cars. Not your typical choice, for sure, but it has always reminded me of him. “Butterfly Kisses” gives me hives, anyway.
I confess that there’s always a higher. I once thought love faded or turned into eventual annoyance and complacency. And I know that can and does happen, and I know I’m “only” nine years in. However, I do know there’s an alternative.