A Very Special Day. Not for the widow lady who lives lonely down the lane. Not for the single guy mowing grass for neighbors up the street, nor the divorced mother wrangling children for after school treats. I am thankful for today and understand how lucky I am. Fifty percent or more of married couples never have this very special day.
Thirty one years ago on May 19, in a mid-sized town of Michigan near a wavy bay this date was picture perfect. Skies above were blue, the color of a baby’s blanket in flannel with temperatures wrapped just as warm. Flowering trees were in bloom, dropping petals atop freshly cut grass in slow motion. Bradford pear, apple and cherry blossoms in pink, falling…falling…falling.
My little sister helped me choose a gown. Off the rack it was, white with dots of swiss and tiny bows holding a rose. It fit like a glove and was the first and only dress I tried on. Meant to be, like the man I married.
On that very special day I walked down the aisle of my childhood church to say, “I Do.” Love filled my heart with the knowledge that my soon to be husband was everything he should be. Loving, Respectful, Kind and Loyal. He carried strong values and very much wanted a family, like me.
Our road together wasn’t always easy. Chronic Conditions dealt us a blow while dealing us a hand we didn’t understand. Working together, we never gave up. Sometimes we sought help from others. No shame in that. Without it, our marriage might have ended on the other side of the fifty percent. What a waste that would have been. So many blessings in the end. A lesson for others perhaps.
Today, I have lived more of my life with the man I married than without. Yes, he’s what I expected walking arm in arm on a runner of white. Yet, he’s so much more than that. My husband has been the very best father to our sons, setting positive examples for them to follow in his own quiet, humble way.
Since becoming a grandfather, I marvel at the kick in his step and the magic in his moods. A storybook character, he is! One who plays dress-up in turquoise tulle, dances in flirty butterfly heels and disguises his voice while reading paper pages popping from a spine. Tea parties are shared around a table of square and nature lessons are given in the back of our yard.
Recently our only grandson turned one. He too now reaches for Grandpa, while lifting arms to beg with saucer blue eyes. “Pick me up,” they say. Soon afterward, my husband’s nose is squished flat, turning red from the bottom of a pudgy fist. His hair of black is magically pulled short to long. Wet lips twist and curl to laugh aloud while fingers of four or five are stuffed between his teeth in a new game of play.
As for me, I feel so lucky to have had this wonderful man by my side for the past thirty-one years. Never do I take a day for granted and I thank God for all of our blessings.
Given the chance, I would put on that dress all over again. White with dots of swiss and little bows holding a rose.
A Very Special Day…