3287 days ago...*

3287 days ago I walked down the center aisle of a tiny country church and married the man I love. I was twenty years old, still a virgin when I made that trip to stand before my nineteen year old groom. I remember that day so very clearly. The church was sweltering - they'd forgotten to turn on the air until about an hour before the wedding. It was a small building, but not so small that it could be cooled in an hour - an hour filled with scurrying activity as my bridesmaids and I got dressed and the final adjustments were made to the decor. I recall catching a glimpse of Nick out the church window, and ducking back so that he wouldn't see me before I walked down the aisle. I remember a video camera peeking in to catch me decked out in yards of pearls and lace, bright red lipstick and matching nails. I remember my bouquet, red, red roses, just what I wanted.

I remember the way that it was all of a sudden time to go, the crowd was standing, the bridal marching was playing, my groom was waiting...and I remember taking a deep breath, thinking to myself, "Okay, here we go, I can do this, I'm absolutely ready." And then my dad held out his hand to me and, with the tenderest look on his face, said "Come on, Baby. It's time." And I nearly came undone. Tears flooded my eyes as I saw my wedding through my father's eyes, saw flash across his face twenty years of love and devotion, twenty years of cut knees and dried tears, twenty years of teaching me how to walk, to ride a bike, to drive a car. And I saw that with his whole heart he wanted me to be happy. And I swallowed hard, took his hand, tucked mine into his arm, and marched down to meet my new life.

And I remember the look on Nick's face when he saw me, the tears glistening in his own eyes, and I heard my father answer the question "Who gives this woman to be wed?" loud and clear with "Her mother and I." And he handed me off to the care of another man, one he trusted and was proud to call his new son. And I remember trying not to rush through my vows, wanting to repeat my lines before the preacher finished reciting his, ready, ready, ready to promise it all, to love, to honor, to obey, to cherish, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, from this day forward, so long as we both should live. And the kiss, oh the kiss - it was such magic, such perfection, and there we'd done it, two kids with little to their names but love for each other, but oh what a love! And we barely got outside before we were in each others arms again, repeating that magical kiss, this time unscripted, completely unaware of our wedding party spilling out behind us, congratulations filling the hot summer air.

The reception was lovely, a veritable feast, my mother's heart and soul evident in each exquisite appetizer, and it seemed to last forever, a joyous occasion yes, but one that was keeping us there when we were ready to go, to get started, to be husband and wife! But eventually the time passed, and we were bundled into my green Camaro, which waited for us covered with well wishes scrawled in shaving cream, the glove box stuffed with condoms. And when we were inside, the night fell away, and the enormity of what we had just done filled us, and it still felt so very, very right.

*Title concept borrowed from my friend Mary.