On Sunday it will have been one year since Katie and I were married.
It has been the best year of my life.
I remember the day itself as typical October. Overcast and damp, but with just a little rain. It was windy and chilly but everything was so exciting and happy that it didn’t matter. I knew that this long-anticipated day would be over in a flash so I made a point of stopping frequently and just enjoying the moment. Seeing her for the first time in her dress. A bit of whiskey in the parking lot with my boys beforehand. The nerve-wracking ceremony where it was just her and me with everyone watching. The receiving line outside in the wind with everyone smiling and laughing and introducing and hugging. Driving around in the old Rolls, up to Stillwater for pictures and time with our good friends in the wedding party. Then a quiet, tired drive into St. Paul, just the two of us in the backseat with a bit of champagne. The reception at the old mansion. Toasts and drinks and dancing and cigars out back under the sky now clear for the moon and the stars, and more laughter, more hugs, more stolen quiet moments.
The year since has been marked by walks outside, camping trips, many nights spent at home together, eating dinner, talking, watching movies, doing I guess what husbands and wives do. She has encouraged everything good that I’ve wanted to do and wisely counseled me against some of my lesser ambitions. As always, we’ve made each other laugh a lot. She’s shown me innumerable new ways to look at uncountable things. Of course, there has also been plenty of revelations in what our church-mandated premarriage classes called “growth areas,” but I’ve come to understand that those kinds of challenges, those difficulties, are what make life what it is. What will someday allow me to measure myself against the potential of life.
I digress, as she has learned I so often do. Thanks for putting up with me, Katie. I love you.
“I am just a dreamer, you are just a dream…”