From Facebook this morning:
” :: 2 years ago, right around 5 in the morning, I woke up & realized that nobody had marinated the chicken for our big party yet to come. So this bride to be sat in her auntie’s basement with chicken guts all over her fingers & thus carried with her the faint smell of raw poultry all day. I’d marinate those 45 pounds of chicken all over again….happy anniversary, love!”
It’s true. 365 x 2 days ago today, James and I were preparing for and celebrating in and partaking of the big day. I smelled like raw chicken. The buffet table tablecloth caught on fire 10 minutes before the ceremony was to start. I punched the pastor during our vows (but no hard feelings, right Bri?). People drank too much Cabernet and Blue Moon alike, and I’m sure somewhere along the way, feelings were hurt and the day wasn’t as perfect as I’d like to remember it. Little, silly, unimportant fights happened between family members – of which I don’t even remember the origin – but somehow that too seems to have passed, and what is remembered is that we said YES.
James and I said YES, we said I do and I’ll do it all over again before our family and friends. The greens and yellows of Nevada City, California never looked so good, and besides the birth of little Canon James and its subsequent mama-hood, I don’t think I’ve ever shined in such radiance. Plates full of collard greens and sweet potato casserole and red velvet cupcakes were devoured – all in honor of James’ southern roots. And although I’d like to proclaim that the hubs never looked so good, the truth is that he has looked better. He looked better six months after we married, and then a year after we married, and although I dearly loved the man in the white shirt and khaki slacks before me on August 21, 2010, he looks better now.
For now he’s a papa. Now he holds Canon and he talks to him as the Giants play in the background, and even though the little bugger wonders why he’s having a bottle from Dad instead of 30 minutes at the milk machine itself (since mama got to actually enjoy her anniversary with a couple of glasses of Pinot…), I sit here staring at my husband, realizing that I am one lucky gal.
I married up.
I married a man who loves others deeply, who loves me and wants the best for me. He dreams big dreams with me, alongside shushing Canon to take the bottle and fall asleep. He’s not just a father to his son, but he’s a daddy…and in that way, he’s looking better now than he did two years ago.
A very happy anniversary to the best man I know.0