Where Ever We're Together, That's My Home*

Twelve years ago, today, Husband and I stood up, in front of our assembled families and friends, on the hottest day of the summer, and promised to love one another until the end of time.


My grandfather sang an old-fashioned hymn in his beautiful, deep baritone that brought tears to my eyes, and my veil nearly caught on fire in the unity candle as Husband lifted it over my head.


And it was hot. Wow. Was it ever hot. And I think we got married in the last church in Ohio that didn't have air conditioning in it's sanctuary. (Earlier in the day, my grandfather and I had actually had a fight - in which he took the reasonable side and suggested that lighting 48 enormous candles along the aisle was an incredibly poor choice on a day that was already 95 degrees at 10 AM, and I took the bridezilla side and insisted that I was only getting married once and I was going to have my 48 candles come hell or high water or obscene temperatures. (I cannot remember what was significant about the number of candles. I only remember it was important at the time.) And my grandpa, a man who had raised 5 daughters, recognized the insanity glowing in my heat-stroked eyes, and gave in. I miss that man.)

It was hot, and my groom and his groomsmen were wearing three piece grey wool tuxedos. We had an amazing wedding cake, made by mother, who, among her many many talents, is an extraordinary cake creator (I guess that a Bachelor's Degree in Sculpture can have unusual applications in the real world.) The heat made my mother fret that our cake would collapse, but, it didn't.

We made our getaway in a vintage Ford Mustang, and that night, we danced to the theme song to the movie The Princess Bride. (Mark Knopfler's "Storybook Love.")

And twelve years later, on a day as hot as our wedding day, I just want to say to Husband, you are my best friend, you are my passion, you are my everything.

Home is just another word for you*...

LM

*Stolen shamelessly from "You're My Home" by Billy Joel.