Two years ago today, I stood at the front of the church museum waiting for my bride to enter.
(Two years minus five minutes ago today, I was in the back room trying desperately to remember what Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring – my cue to enter, and a song I had played many times before – sounded like.)
The thing I remember about that moment is realizing that I was quite nervous, but not like you’d think. I was “gig-nervous”, the kind I got before any performance. I was nervous about taking the stage, about standing up there, just me and her, in front of all our assembled friends and family, and hitting my lines. What came next? When was I supposed to light the candles?
I wasn’t at all nervous about marrying her.
That part was the one thing that made sense. That part was the one bit that I had complete confidence about. That part seemed so blindingly obvious to me at the time. Of course we were getting married. She was perfect for me. We were right for each other. From the moment we met, it just worked as seamlessly as I could have hoped for.
Here we are now, two years later. Jason goes into high school this fall – I can only hope to do right by him through that time. Christine is back in school, knitting up a storm, and taking all sorts of beautiful pictures. My job has me working with so many European colleagues that I’ve been forced to become – gasp! – a morning person. We live in a great house way (waaaaaay) out in the ‘burbs. Life is so full it feels like it’s about to burst, yet I’m so much richer because she’s part of that life. Each morning I wake up, and between fumbling for the coffee pot and trying to remember which conference call I’m supposed to join first, I realize how important she is to me and try to do my best to live up to that.
Thanks for two wonderful whirlwind years (well, almost four since we met) so far, sweetheart. Here’s hoping for many, many more. I love you.
(By the way, Pointy Sticks Episode 6 is out.)