Twenty-six years ago today I married a really great guy. Funny, smart, kind; he brings out the best in me. Maybe we bring out the best in each other.
I wore my mother’s wedding gown and a pillbox hat his mother gave me. The seamstress covered the hat in lace and tiny pearls to match my dress and attached an elbow-length veil. I remember that I spent over $300 on my Peter Fox shoes, justified by the fact that my dress was essentially free. I spent months searching for the perfect ivory gloves in antique stores and after finding just the right pair, I’m pretty sure I never even put them on. We were married at a church in West LA and had our reception at Lakeside Country Club. Everything about the day was perfect, but of course, all I was thinking about at the time was being a bride. I had no clue how to be someone’s wife.
There are lessons you can only learn in the experience. How to give without always taking, how to gracefully let something go. Nine thousand four hundred and ninety six days into it and I’m still learning. I never could have dreamed the life we have created. Or the life we were dealt. In sickness and in health. You never think anything is actually going to happen. The last year and a half has not been easy. It’s been scary and hard, but we’ve been here before, we’ve had practice, and together we are strong.
I am restless, my heart wants something I have no idea how to find. But in this — this union — I am at peace. Because 26 years ago today I married a really great guy.