First Ten Years of Forever
Ten years ago, on a very hot day, I sweated in a white dress in an un-air-conditioned wing of a church, and waited.
I was nervous, I was hot (hence, the sweat). Someone found a fan and stuck it under my dress so I could have some air blowing up over my legs.
I almost chickened out. Not out of marrying the guy I loved, but out of the walk down the aisle. I had a sudden premonition that as soon as the doors opened and that aisle stretched out before me, I would lose my breakfast. Rather than risk that embarrassment, I wanted to run out the back door and plan an elopement later.
I'm glad I didn't.
When the doors opened, I somehow managed to cling to my dad's arm and trip and stumble my way down the aisle all the way at the front, where we smiled shyly at each other, like we had only just met.
I wondered
Ten years ago,
What I would do this morning
When I woke and watched your face,
Relaxed, peaceful,
Lashes free of glasses,
Breathing in deep, steady draughts of dreamland.
I wondered
What ten years would do to this
Thing called "Us."
And so, I grasped my bouquet with nervous fingers.
The doors opened,
The music flowed.
The white satin rustled
Toward you, at the front.
The words we said to each other
That day
Were meant to last
A lifetime.
So here we are
Ten years later.
New wrinkles, gray hairs write a
Story
Stronger than words:
Roses from our bush
Offered wordlessly,
A stroke of color
When I'm not looking.
I woke today and
Watched your sleeping face,
And wondered what I should do
To love you today.
I got up
And cleaned a mess
And changed a diaper
And wiped some mouths
And settled an argument
And loved our offspring
And loved you
Because this is
Our First Ten Years of Forever.
I was nervous, I was hot (hence, the sweat). Someone found a fan and stuck it under my dress so I could have some air blowing up over my legs.
I almost chickened out. Not out of marrying the guy I loved, but out of the walk down the aisle. I had a sudden premonition that as soon as the doors opened and that aisle stretched out before me, I would lose my breakfast. Rather than risk that embarrassment, I wanted to run out the back door and plan an elopement later.
I'm glad I didn't.
When the doors opened, I somehow managed to cling to my dad's arm and trip and stumble my way down the aisle all the way at the front, where we smiled shyly at each other, like we had only just met.
I wondered
Ten years ago,
What I would do this morning
When I woke and watched your face,
Relaxed, peaceful,
Lashes free of glasses,
Breathing in deep, steady draughts of dreamland.
I wondered
What ten years would do to this
Thing called "Us."
And so, I grasped my bouquet with nervous fingers.
The doors opened,
The music flowed.
The white satin rustled
Toward you, at the front.
The words we said to each other
That day
Were meant to last
A lifetime.
So here we are
Ten years later.
New wrinkles, gray hairs write a
Story
Stronger than words:
Roses from our bush
Offered wordlessly,
A stroke of color
When I'm not looking.
I woke today and
Watched your sleeping face,
And wondered what I should do
To love you today.
I got up
And cleaned a mess
And changed a diaper
And wiped some mouths
And settled an argument
And loved our offspring
And loved you
Because this is
Our First Ten Years of Forever.

Published on May 22, 2014 06:07
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