Storytelling. Hello and welcome from rainy/sunny Vermont. Twenty-two years ago on this day I pledged my love to my husband and he pledged his to me in a simple ceremony in an old church. We held our reception at our home on top of Hollister Hill, with friends and family, good food, plenty of music for our eclectic collection of CDs, and snazzy portalets. Several women wore pretty hats. Someone set up a croquet game in our apple orchard. My cousin Mimi wore a fantastic red dress. Since we didn’t have a photographer, everyone snapped photos for us.
The afternoon unfolded into more and more happiness, as we sat down under the tent to visit with our elderly relatives, and then meandered through the grounds, catching up and giving hugs to each person who was there. Later, as our visitors started into their second round of food, our nephew chauffeured us into New Hampshire to a bed and breakfast at the top of another lovely hill. His dad drove our car right behind us so we had a way to get home again. We literally were driven off into the sunset. What a day.
Getting married to a good man, that was a goal of mine, right along with getting a college degree, and I never thought much about what our lives would be like after. Just, you know, married stuff. Besides, I was young, in good health, very strong and resilient, and really, we were together. Couldn’t we handle anything?
I like to go back and remember how sweet our wedding day was, because on that day, everything was possible, and our hands and hearts were wide open to each other and to life. The best feeling in the world was holding my new husband’s hand as we walked down the aisle together. We had done it. We had committed. No longer were we partners or mates or boyfriend and girlfriend. We were spouses–for life!
Twenty-two years later, we really have a grip on what “for better or for worse” means. And those forever promises I made then are just a wee bit harder to keep now. But the thing is, I still love holding my husband’s hand. In that simple gesture, no matter what the day’s been like, we continue to commit and to pledge. And as every year of marriage passes, I still feel a sense of renewal. What gesture keeps you going?
Check back next week for another segment of Finding Home.