Me. Six years ago today. Probably around this same time of the day. New mom, about to be new wife…I had a lot going on.
So I drank. Because…of course I did.
It’s no secret I asked for snow that day. And snow I got. Blizzard of the year. Everything was covered in white, glistening in the bright sun, blanketing my little world in that kind of murmured hum of quiet. My apologies for all of my friends that had troubles travelling in, but it looked just exactly like I had dreamed it would.
My Daddy got to walk his only daughter down the aisle that day. Can you tell how proud he is?
And just like that, roaring fire behind us, buoyed by our friends and family surrounding our little family…we were married. Married. Six years ago, years of worries and stresses and climbs and falls and all the things that really make a life.
If my future self would have whispered in my ear that day all that would come to pass…I would have walked on air down that aisle toward you, Ryan. I would have run, I would have sprinted toward you and held on so tight.
It wasn’t that we became a family, no. The three of us were a family already. It was that we got to do it in front of everyone. I got to become your wife, I got to first call you my husband, we got to kiss our daughter as a married couple and declare to everyone that this is the life that we chose. This is where we pinned our hopes and dreams, this is who we trusted our lives to, this is who we intended to build an eternity with.
And just like with everything we’ve done since, we did it OUR way.
Oh yeah. I definitely still do.
Happy 6th Anniversary, babe. Here’s to 60 more.