May 26, 1990. That was the day my life changed for the better.
Kevin and I have been married for 25 years. And I could write a novel of the events that lead up to this day, but I think instead, I’m going to copy what my sister-in-law did on Facebook and just bullet-point our lives:
We worked together at a bank – that’s how we met.
Our first “date” was the company Christmas party. And we met there, in separate cars. Because I was a strong female and didn’t want him to think I was easy. *smirk*
We lived together for two years before we got married. *gasp*
I had to give him an ultimatum – either we get married, or we go our separate ways. (Remember that strong female part? I was terrified he would walk out – but I guess it was better than wasting years together).
I had to shop around for a church. We didn’t belong to a church and a friend I worked with recommended a pretty little church in Nixa. Done.
Our wedding day: Kevin thought I stood him up since I was late getting to the church. That same friend that recommended the church also did my hair. A fancy little braid number and it took longer than we thought it would. Kevin said he lost a few years waiting for me.
We paid for our wedding ourselves. Well. Technically, we used one of my school loans to pay for our wedding.
My mom’s wedding gift to me was making my wedding dress.
I still have the dress packed away in a garment bag. I couldn’t fit into it now to save my life.
We toasted each other with paper cups because I totally forgot to buy glasses for the occasion.
Whoever was in charge of music played the wedding march (the song you exit to) when my dad escorted me down the aisle. I wasn’t even aware of that faux pas until Kevin and I watched the wedding video afterward.
I had to wear ballet slippers instead of gorgeous heels because I didn’t want to be taller than Kevin for our pictures. (At least I was comfortable).
I couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over. And who was the idiot that picked three songs to sing, during the ceremony, so that it lasted WAY longer than it had to? (That would be me).
We honeymooned in Cozumel, Mexico.
It was the first time I had ever been out of Missouri, let alone the country, and I cried like a baby.
I smashed my pinky in a lounge chair on the beach. I later lost that fingernail.
We rented a moped to get around the island and I don’t think we wore helmets. (We were young and stupid).
We ate lunch at a shack on the other side of the island and wrote our names in this pole. We later went back to Cozumel years later and the shack was gone.
I remember Kevin and I being horrified because the little prop plane that took us from Cancun to Cozumel was literally held together by duct tape.
I absolutely did not pack the right type of clothing for Cozumel. All of my shirts were too heavy and all I had with me were jean shorts. I’ve since learned tank tops and breezy skirts are your friend if you ever go to a tropical island.
On the plane ride home from our honeymoon, the landing gear wouldn’t come out and one of the flight attendants had to open the floor and crank the gear down. That did not help my anxiety over flying one bit.
I did not fly again until our 10th anniversary cruise to the Caribbean.
and lastly …
I can’t imagine my life without my best friend, lover, confidante and husband.
Thank you for putting up with me all of these years, sweetie. I love you to the moon and back.