Merry Me

It was a perfect--picture perfect--autumn day in Southern Utah. I was young--unbelievably young--and he was younger still. We were all dressed up and truly ready to go. It was November 21st.

Wedding Day, 1989.

I know, I know, you are going to want photographs with this post, but alas, I have none to offer you. What I mean to say is that I have loads of wedding day photos in storage in Arizona, but none in digital form, and certainly not a one over here. But you can trust me when I tell you that we were the. cutest. couple. on. the. planet.

I wore the same gown my mother wore at her own wedding. Handmade by my grandmother for that wedding 46 years ago, it was updated and redesigned by my mom's hand for my wedding 28 years later.

I love that dress.

He wore a rented tuxedo in black. He was ridiculously, deliciously handsome.

The thing I remember most about the morning we married, was the perfect day which surrounded us. As we strolled along the church grounds posing for the plentitude of photographs (Again, none of which will be posted here today) the multi-colored leaves rustled in the breeze and occasionally, as if expertly choreographed, one would release it's hold on the branch and tumble delicately downward; turning, twisting, spiraling in faultless timing, ultimately landing softly to add to the autumn confetti in the grass.

Like I said, perfect.

The remainder of that day was filled with family, friends, food and celebrations. That pretty much sums up the 18 years following as well. Pause for a few ups and downs (oh, no she did NOT just resort to the obvious metaphor!) our life together has been one terrific ride. If there is a ticket line for this attraction, I am certainly queueing up for another go round.