Eight Years Later

Eight years ago, I woke up to a rainy morning. I couldn't sleep. I got up and got dressed, did my hair, prettied up my face. I looked around the house and couldn't find anything to keep me interested. I looked at the drizzle. I paced. I read the paper but didn't take anything in. I made my sister and my cousin play Scrabble and I'm pretty sure I didn't win.

It was my wedding day and I couldn't wait to walk down the aisle.

It's funny how certain images stick in your head from significant occasions. I remember the Dude standing at the end of the aisle waiting for me. He looked a little pale. I remember the Gerber daisies I held in my hand. I remember my nephew saying, in a loud and very 2 year old voice "I dropped my tractor" at a very quiet moment in the ceremony. I remember pausing to let the lump in my throat go away while I tried to make it through my vows. I also remember the pause getting longer and longer. The Dude winked at me and I almost cried. I danced with my brother and he swung me around the floor. My dress became a sail as we swooshed in great circles.

We're different people today, eight years later. We've laughed. We've fought. We've disagreed on what colour to paint our living room. We've bought a house, new cars, a couch. We've travelled together and cuddled in front of our fireplace.

Eight years ago, I didn't realize what today would be like. We have one beautiful child and one on the way. We are each individuals with our own interests who love and appreciate each other. We make each other laugh.

Eight years ago, I thought I was going to love this man forever. And I was right.