I’m getting married this summer.
Not like, “again,” like the first one didn’t work out so I’m trying another one. Not like “again” like I’ve done it a hundred times before, like “again” like I’m marrying the best person I’ve ever known all over again.
The good kind of again.
On July 19th, 1997, the lady and I stole away to Vegas with a few close friends and family members and swore in front of an officiant that we would love each other forever. We exchanged rings, exchanged kisses, took pictures and saved the video. We still have the video, somewhere. We just don’t have a VCR.
That’s for the best, I looked hideously nervous in the video and it embarrasses me to watch.
But the missus – though she wasn’t quite that yet – looked amazing. If you ever get a chance to watch it, you should, to see her and to hear her mom babbling off camera through the whole thing. That part is funny. Just remember what I said about me; you’ve never seen me quite like that.
I was so nervous in the hours before the ceremony that my soon-to-be betrothed demanded that I head downstairs, play blackjack, and drink some beer before we go on stage. She knew me that well. I told you she was the best person I’ve ever known.
I got lucky. I got lucky to have found my soul one early. I got lucky it was her. I got lucky because she feels she’s lucky, too. When you get it right the first time, and when you hang in there with each other through all of life’s changes, it’s really something special. She’s really something special.
That was 20 years ago this year. We had meant to renew our vows on our 10th anniversary, and even toyed with the idea around 15, but things just never came together. Whether it was money, new work schedules, or me being an occasional ass I don’t recall, but it didn’t happen then.
It’s happening now.
On July 22nd, 2017, Mr and Mrs C will reaffirm their bond in the city where it all began, near the chapel where it all began, with the promise to begin again. I can’t wait. She’s worth it.
Everyone is welcome.
Please be aware that if you are there I might not even notice. My eyes will be on her. My soul one.
There are more than a thousand Mondays in twenty years. More than a thousand. I say that because early on in our courtship we used to say we made it (through the wild weekend) to another Monday. It seemed when we were young that the people we knew were always breaking up on the weekends, but we would always marvel that we made it to another Monday. Now we say that we love each other times infinity, plus a Monday.
Forever and a day. A specific day, at that.
I hope you’ll join us in Vegas. I hope you’ll join us all year, at least, in celebrating our first two decades in matrimony. This summer we will vow for decades more. A lot of things can go wrong in this crazy journey of life, so it’s nice to pay heed to the things that went right. Just right.
I got it right, the first time. I’m a lucky guy.
I’m getting married.