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Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Jumping In and A Peek Into the Past

At the urging of my darling husband, Garrett, I am joining the new millennium – okay, so I am ten (almost eleven) years late to the new millennium.  I am late for everything, so why should starting a blog be any different? I realize that I am not the first person to start a blog, and I am comfortable with that. I am not really a trail-blazer in a lot of respects – I like to sit back and watch and observe for a while before I jump in.  At any rate, here I am, jumping. Always late but worth the wait – that’s what I always say!
Speaking of jumping - today is our wedding anniversary. Three years ago we took that “jump” and we were married under huge weeping willows by the river, in front of around 200 of our closest friends, at the most gorgeous ceremony ever.  I wore a huge ball gown with beading and a train and the whole nine yards.  There was a tent and a full dinner and dancing and roses and candles and two cakes.  (Something you should know about me: while I am not one for jumping in without thinking long and hard about it as I mentioned above, once I am “in” I am of the “go big or go home” mentality – and my wedding was no different.)
We of course have pictures of this blessed day. Pictures of my father walking me down the aisle, pictures of us exchanging rings, kissing, dancing. Pictures of us eating and toasting, and cake cutting.  Pictures of our guests, our bridesmaids, groomsmen, flower girl, families, friends.  Pictures of Piper Penelope (she’s our pug, our “first baby”) partying it up like the rest of us.  Beautiful memories.
There was, however, a lot of things going on outside of the view of the camera lens. What some may consider “less than beautiful” memories.
We had a fainting best man. That’s right, out cold in the grass, just as we were exchanging rings.  It was just too hot for him, in is black tuxedo with the sun beating down on his back.  Those of you who were there may be saying, “Oh yeah – it was terrible! He got hung up on the barbed wire fence!” Yes, he did.  You may be remembering, “Oh, yeah!  He hung there like a scarecrow! He nearly tumbled down a hill and into the river!” Yes, he did. You may also remember that we just carried on with the ceremony as people were trying to revive him, and that his wife (who was also in the wedding party) actually shouted, “Daniel! You are ruining their wedding!”
Strangely, there are no pictures of any of this.  Back to the part where we carried on with the ceremony, and the afore mentioned pictures of us exchanging rings and Garrett kissing the bride and all of that jazz, I laugh everytime I look at those and think about what is  happening just two feet to our left.  And he did not ruin our wedding at all. In fact, poor Best-man Dan, it has become a favorite family tale that we will share for years to come.
Later in the night, we also had a fire on the cake table caused by some wayward napkins and one of the 2.75 million candles I insisted on lighting – you know, for mood lighting? The burning table ended up being a different kind of mood lighting, I suppose, but alas we have no pictures of this either.  As is true for even a little later in the night when the sherriff showed up because our music (which at this point had gone from the beautiful selections that started the night off had digressed to more colorful selections such as “I Like Big Butts” and “Ridin’Dirty”) was apparently offending some people a mile away across the river who had the nerve to feel like sleeping at 2am.  Like I said, no pictures.
Where were all of the cameras for all of this, you might ask. I have no idea. Am I said that these moments happened? No. I am glad they did, actually.  In a lot of ways, that night and all of its hiccups were a metaphor for our married life.  Things aren’t always perfect around here.  While a picture can capture a moment, it also leaves out some of the best parts.  The parts of our wedding that I hold most dear three years later are the parts that are a little “imperfect” – and they are the same types of things I hold most dear about my marriage to Garrett. The things that you may not see, or take a picture of are often the sweetest moments around here.  Our life is not a fairy tale, but we are loving it, hiccups and all.
Happy Anniversary, Garrett.  I love you. J

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