Ten years ago, I watched the skies to see if they’d pour down rain or sun.
Ten years ago, I forgot the headpiece and veil, and my dad had to drive them up to the hairdressers’ for me. (He brought me coffee, too, because he knows me.)
Ten years ago, I saw the seamstress’ work meant the bra peeked over the top of my wedding dress, so I snipped the stitches and went without.
Ten years ago, one of us (probably me) forgot the rings, and Greg had to run home and get them.
Ten years ago, the skies cleared.
Ten years ago, family and friends gathered in my parents’ garage-turned-barn to celebrate with us.
Ten years ago, the justice of the peace told a very sweet story about our courtship that bore little resemblance to the ones we’d actually shared with him. Some of the wedding photos show us giving each other who the hell is he talking about? looks.
Ten years ago, we laughed during our vows. And maybe cried a little, too.
Ten years ago, we danced to “WWOZ,” and made our guests sing a love song if they wanted us to kiss for the crowd. His mom came prepared with a list in case anyone needed inspiration.
Ten years ago, we said “I do,” and we did and we have and we are and we will.
I love you, Greg. Happy anniversary.