Ten Years Ago Today

Ten years ago today, I woke up to a beautiful morning, full of anticipation, excitement and wonder. And also the most amazing gift a friend could give: a one hour massage before our wedding. My beloved’s massage followed, while others snuck us around, so we didn’t see each other before the big moment. It was fun to adhere to that tradition, because truly, I don’t believe in bad luck, but I did only want him to see me that day when I was at the height of my visual appeal: hair and makeup done, dress so beautifully encompassing me with it’s satiny material and silver thread, even a tiara in place to remind him of the princess of the King that he was marrying. It was a great morning.

Ten years ago today, I sat in a dressing room in a lovely church--the same church that my own parents stood in to give their own vows, now 36 years ago, pledging their love and devotion to one another. My sister was my matron of honor, and she helped me to place the garter that would somehow makes its way to Steve’s hand during the reception, and then onto Lynnette’s leg. Fun times. She kissed me--a sort of farewell kiss as her baby sister, and a welcome-to-the-world-of-marriage kiss all wrapped into one gesture. 

Ten years ago today, I paced at the back of the church, waiting for the music to start. “Canon in D” and “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” were the selections our dear friend was to play at the piano. The numerous bridesmaids were to process down the cala-adorned aisle and up to the front of the sanctuary, which was filled not only with candles, flowers, and greenery of every sort, but also with our families, friends and loved ones--all of them sitting there that day to witness our union, our own vows and pledges, and our first kiss as man and wife.

Ten years ago today I watched as my bridesmaids, matron of honor and flower girl all took their first few steps down the long aisle, and as they passed, my heart began to flutter like the butterflies’ wings did as we released them into the open air later that afternoon. My breath was deep as the first of several tears began to sting my eyes. I took my daddy’s arm and he turned me to face that gorgeous aisle. It was gorgeous not because of the lovely calas expertly placed on either side, or the candles burning in their abras above the calas. It was gorgeous because it was the path to my love, My Sweet One. He was waiting there, at the end--or rather, the beginning--for me to join him there and for the rest of our lives.

Ten years ago today I walked down that oh, so very long aisle; with every step, telling myself to calm down, to breathe, to stop the tears that were involuntarily inviting themselves to this wedding, and most of all--not to trip. My dad grasped my arm tightly, as it was the last time he would have me solely as his daughter. Now I would belong to another. Another man, another family, and sometime in that near future, my own children. He was truly giving me away, yet we both knew he would always have a certain part of my heart as my daddy that no one else could find. It was hidden within his own heart.

Ten years ago today I looked upon the most handsome and loving man I could have set my eyes upon. My Nicolas Lee Lamoreaux. He stood there in his black tux with pewter-patterned vest and Doc Martin-style shoes that I pleaded for him to have, and as usual, he complied. Not because he is a push-over, but because he knew it would please me, his bride. He stood there nervously, ready to take my hand, but until that moment when the pastor said to do so, he was content to take me in as the picture of the emotional and beautiful bride that I was at that moment... still daddy’s girl, holding on tightly, until that moment when I would grasp his hand, never to let it go, and begin the most amazing adventure of a lifetime.

Ten years ago today I stood in front of our dear friend and reverend, C. Ray Roach, and having just kissed my daddy farewell, I joined My Sweet One to become one. We listened to my new Father-in-Law sing a song just for us, and wondered exactly how he made it through so wonderfully, as I know there was a lump in his throat for at least a part of the song. We exchanged vows--me through tears, and him through emotions that helped him to stumble over a certain word. It was okay. It was raw. It was emotional. Mostly, though, it was true and permanent. More music--from wonderful friends, and we were pronounced man and wife.

Ten years ago today I kissed my husband for the first time. Sure, I had kissed my boyfriend, and then my fiancé, but never had I kissed my husband. And somehow it was different than before. Somehow it meant more than any other kiss had ever meant. It felt better than any other kiss had ever felt. It was the kiss that was sealing this union, in front of all these witnesses. And it was breathtaking. So much so that we decided to do it again after we had walked back down the aisle as husband and wife. The look of surprise on our best man and matron of honor--your best friend, Kendon, and my sister, Tiffany, was priceless. And we have the picture to prove it.

Ten years ago today I knealt with my brand new husband and prayed our very first prayer together as one flesh. More music, of course, as we just can’t seem to get enough of good music, and it also gave us more time to gaze into each others’ eyes and notice a few things: we noticed how we both had eyes that were freshly bathed in tears, but were also full of anticipation of things to come. I noticed how much love and devotion were in the eyes of my beloved’s. I hoped he noticed the same in mine. I saw hopes and dreams, happiness and defeat, children, laughter, tears. All in a moment, knealing before our Lord, asking Him for His hand of guidance to be upon us forever.

Ten years ago today I danced with my husband. Micheal W. Smith’s “You Are the Love of My Life” was the song, and our wedding party joined us. The music was beautiful. You were very, very tall. Even with my heels. It was okay, though, because all that mattered was that we were now one. It doesn’t matter the differences that we have, or the great things we share in common. What does matter is that we are one, and therefore every similarity and difference has been joined into one beautiful new creation: us. I thank God for every moment since that enormous day ten years ago, and these were just a tiny sampling of what that day held for us. 

So many memories from just 24 hours. It makes me remember all over again, just how God’s hand was upon us, and has truly never left--even when we made wrong choices. He has kept us safe, He has kept us together. There is such a great purpose in our marriage, my love. And I am so grateful to you for giving me this amazing life. Our three princesses, a new home--be it far away from all we once knew, I still adore it because I am here with you--in America’s Dairyland, freedom in doing what we both know God has called us into, support for my meltdowns... For better or worse... In sickness and in health... Till death parts us... My love, My Sweet One, Mr. Comfortable, Nicolas Lee Lamoreaux, I am yours and yours alone. I am eternally grateful for every moment. I pray for each moment to come. And I can’t wait to grow old with you, to see our own children experience these things, to see our grandchildren, and whatever else God has in store for us. I love you. Happy Anniversary.