Five Years

You've probably gathered by now that I'm a bit of a sentimental fool, and also that I'm something of a crier, that things like lost luggageand shelter dog commercialsand Olympic human interest storiescan set off one of my puffy-eyed snuffle-fests.  And yet, I've been surprised by the times that I haven't cried, times I was sure I'd end up looking like a wet dishrag but instead turned out to be a dry-eyed bundle of sunshine. 

One of those times was our referral day; when I'd imagined getting The Call, I always figured I'd bust out into joyful, hiccuping sobs when it came, but in actuality I was shaky and head-explodingly excited, but I didn't do much in the way of full-on crying.  Somehow, the adrenaline of the moment and the sheer joy of it overrode my usual sentimentality -- although, in the interest of full disclosure, when I go back and read my entries about those life-changing moments, and especially when I read all of your amazing comments from my initial announcementof the news, I can't help but get that starry feeling in the back of my throat and a glimmer of moisture in my eye.  (Don't mind me!  Just my contacts!  Allergies, you know.  Ahem.) 

Our wedding day was another one -- for years, even before I knew who my groom would be, I had a hazy vision of myself in a white dress, floating down a long aisle, and the thought of such a momentous occasion, and all the emotions it would bring and all that it would represent, moved me to tears.  And when I was actually engaged and the date loomed in the future -- June 14, 2003, to be exact -- I fretted over the thought of ruining all my wedding pictures by having red, swollen eyes, how I would mess up my professional makeup and ultimately seem a little foolish for all the waterworks. 

When the day arrived, though, with its buzz of activity and clamor of family and friends, I was calm and collected.  I laughed with my mom and my girlfriends as we got our hair and makeup done; I made sure to eat and drink enough so as not to have a fainting incident at the altar; and even when my dad saw me for the first time, all brided up, I held it together. 

Once we were at the church, I got annoyed that the boutennieres weren't what I wanted and I stressed over whether to pee before the ceremony (I did, with at least three girls to help hold my loooong train and veil up and out of the way of the toilet) and I ducked nervously behind a table to keep the groom from catching a glimpse of me in my bridal ante room and I worried momentarily that my bridesmaids (and man of honor) would be caught in the rain as we sprinted from the rectory to the back of the sanctuary, just in time for the sky to open up with a boom of thunder as we heard the opening strains of the processional beginning.

There just wasn't a lot of time for crying.  And then, after the bridal party had headed down the aisle and I stood under the arches of the nave, waiting for the verger to open the double doors for my grand entrance, when it was just my dad and me sharing a moment we'd both imagined countless times before, I felt nothing but pride and love and astonishment that it was all really happening.  I didn't cry then, and I didn't cry when the doors opened or when my music (Tchaikovsky's Serenade in C) began or when I saw the faces of so many people I loved, from every part of my life, collected under one roof.  I didn't cry when I got up to the front of the aisle and my dad did the hand-off, or when I held J's hands for the first time and we stared at each other in awe, or when we exchanged the vows we'd written and were declared man and wife.

Ok, fine, I DID tear up when my friend did a reading, but that was because SHE started crying, and I couldn't very well just sit there and let her cry alone, could I?  And then I DID cry when my new husband and I made it to the nave together, as man and wife, and we hugged each other as the rain poured down outside and a crowd gathered in front of the Swedish Fish truck -- which was parked, inexplicably, in front of the church, something I hadn't seen before and haven't seen since -- and all the passersby applauded us and the church bells rang out into the downpour. 
 

The rest of the day was sheer exuberance, from the ride in the antique Packard with glasses of Champagne and a horn that honked "Here Comes the Bride" (it was not a low-profile way to travel) to the brilliant toasts given by my dad, my brother and my man of honor to the hours and hours of dancing (our DJ ruled).  It was the kind of day that leaves you breathless at how fast it went, and as it goes you have to keep telling yourself to remember all the little moments but not to hold on to them too tightly, because over the years they'll fade but the imprints of emotion that they leave behind will still be precious to you forever.

Of course every day can't be as thrilling as all of that, but what followed it -- and what lies ahead -- is every bit as wonderful.  I'm not exaggerating when I say that, as of the moment that we were pronounced husband and wife, everything changed.  The two of us knew well before June 14, 2003, that we would be together forever, that we would do anything for each other; but all the love and intention in the world was no equal to being joined together by vows, blessings and law. 

We felt different immediately; it was as if a huge unknown had been made known, or a previously unsettled, uncertain question had been answered.  That part of our lives in which we were two single, separate people -- however much we adored each other and planned to make it all work as a couple -- was over.  Our fate was decided, sealed and endorsed by all of our loved ones and by God. 

Of course marriage takes work, and there can be trying times and so on and so forth; I'm no Pollyanna about these things.  But for us, the level of security that came from being married was unparalleled in our lives.  It felt different to be together, and it felt different to be out in the world, knowing that we had an avowed partner, teammate and best friend for life.  It is something that gives me tremendous comfort to this day, and I imagine it will forever -- he's in my corner, and I'm in his, and we're taking this walk together through the world, side by side.  And that brings tears of joy to my eyes. 

(Photo set on Flickr.)

Comments

[Tara]

Congratulations! What a beautiful story (complete with random Swedish Fish truck :) of your love and your journey with your husband. People keep telling me that 5 years is the first milestone (my husband and I will hit 5 years this summer as well), but I feel like everyday is a wonderful milestone. Here's to you and your husband and many more years of love and happiness (imagine the toasting of a glass). :)

[daysgoby]

Oh, how beautiful!

(clinks Tara's glass and yours)

[JudithNYC]

Now you got me crying!

[jonniker]

Awwww. Happy belated. That's how I feel about marriage, too. Like, I have someone who's perpetually on my side, no matter what.

And yes, marriage felt inextricably different, although I didn't think it could. I suddenly felt BOUND to him, in the best possible way. It'll be five years for us in a few months, as you know. And hot damn, it FLEW.

[Mar]

Happy anniversary, from another '03 bride. This is just wonderful to read -- expresses my own feelings exactly.

As for tears -- get ready for the first time you meet your daughter in person. I was giddy and excited when I found out I was pregnant, ditto for the start of labor, but too much was going on to cry at the momentousness of it all. BUT when I heard "it's a boy!" and that healthy first cry... I erupted with complete and utter joyous tears, from some previously unexplored part of me.

[Dianna]

Awwww, that's so incredibly sweet! And an excellent reminder of why I married my husband, even if I occasionally contemplate a criminal act when he's being an idiot. Heh.

Happy Anniversary M&J!!!

[Suebob]

Good stuff. Any wedding that has swedish fish...well, it HAS to be good.

[nonsoccermom]

What a sweet post. Happy belated anniversary. My husband and I hit 7 years on June 15, and it truly is amazing how everything changed and how quickly time has flown...

Also, Swedish Fish! How randomly awesome.

[Becky]

Oh, such a touching post! I'm in the process of posting my "wedding story" / "how we met story" on my blog and it's helping me to realize just how lucky I am to have a guy like hubby.
congrats on 5 years, and the pics are just beautiful!
:) Becky

[Leah]

Happy Anniversary, M and J! Here's to five more years, and five more after that, and five more after that, ad infinitum.

[Julie]

Happy Anniversary!!!

Your wedding pictures are gorgeous.

Here's to many more years together.

[Nothing But Bonfires]

But I cried just READING about your wedding! Does that count?!

Beautiful post. Beautiful photos. Beautiful sentiment.

(Also, beautiful dress. Seriously: I hope you kept it and now just wear it around the house or something.)

[rachel]

Happy Anniversary!! You two are so beautiful together.

[Lara]

Oh, happy late anniversary!! You - and your dress - are GORGEOUS!!

[This Girl Remembers]

Oh, happy late anniversary - what a lovely story! Particularly touching for me, as my wonderful husband (!!!) and I were married just a little more than a week ago, on the 16th. And yes, I can relate so much to "feeling different"! We've lived together for several years, and knew years ago that we would be together for the long term, but it *does* feel different. And we're still giddy with it all - I get a delightful little flutter in my chest every time I catch sight of the ring on his finger. Five years in, may we be as happy as you so clearly are!

[kathy]

Noelle is a very lucky girl to be coming into such a happy family