2007/06/15 11:18
The Fifth Is the Blog Post Anniversary
It was probably about this time five years ago today that I grudgingly rolled off the air mattress at my mom's house, still not totally awake but unable to sleep any longer, both thanks to overwhelming nervous anticipation. After all, in six hours, I'd be Mr. Sed.
Don't get me wrong; I wasn't nervous about getting married. It's just that weddings are stressful, I don't care how many people you employ or how smoothly everything runs. The fact is you're on stage from the moment you enter the ceremony site until the car finally pulls away from the reception hall, and everyone you know is there to watch the show. Which can't be a comedic or sardonic production -- you know, totally screwing my genre.
But once we were alone in our arranged bridal suite (hey, you try to consummate romantically with six people staying at your house), the performance jitters flew away, finally letting me enjoy my happiness in having officially and legally united with my true love. And what's remarkable is how much of that feeling has stuck around.
Everybody's busy today. We're running here, we're doing stuff over there, we're calling people and organizing more events, we just got an e-mail on our personal electronic devices that demands an immediate response. It can be hard to sit quietly and appreciate an abstract concept, or take the time to express it with a showy display.
Landmark dates are no exception: Sed's on call tonight. Rather than being wooed all over again by her erstwhile (if harried) suitor, she'll be working until tomorrow morning. And even if she were home, we have another member of our family to consider now and wouldn't be able to make a late evening of it. It can be frustrating, the fact that what potential time together her job doesn't eat is reserved for someone who's still too little to be grateful that our love is the very thing that caused her existence.
But the frustration is a thin veneer. Wipe it away, and I'm right back to how I felt June 15, 2002, as I carried my new bride through the door of our hotel room -- giddy with the prospect of spending the rest of my life with the girl of my dreams. And unless I overdose on bacon or fall on the wrong side of Tony Soprano, we still have quite a bit of that "rest of my life" left. Makes it hard to be mad about temporary time demands.
Happy anniversary, Sed. I love you more than ever, and I still love you more than everything.
Don't get me wrong; I wasn't nervous about getting married. It's just that weddings are stressful, I don't care how many people you employ or how smoothly everything runs. The fact is you're on stage from the moment you enter the ceremony site until the car finally pulls away from the reception hall, and everyone you know is there to watch the show. Which can't be a comedic or sardonic production -- you know, totally screwing my genre.
But once we were alone in our arranged bridal suite (hey, you try to consummate romantically with six people staying at your house), the performance jitters flew away, finally letting me enjoy my happiness in having officially and legally united with my true love. And what's remarkable is how much of that feeling has stuck around.
Everybody's busy today. We're running here, we're doing stuff over there, we're calling people and organizing more events, we just got an e-mail on our personal electronic devices that demands an immediate response. It can be hard to sit quietly and appreciate an abstract concept, or take the time to express it with a showy display.
Landmark dates are no exception: Sed's on call tonight. Rather than being wooed all over again by her erstwhile (if harried) suitor, she'll be working until tomorrow morning. And even if she were home, we have another member of our family to consider now and wouldn't be able to make a late evening of it. It can be frustrating, the fact that what potential time together her job doesn't eat is reserved for someone who's still too little to be grateful that our love is the very thing that caused her existence.
But the frustration is a thin veneer. Wipe it away, and I'm right back to how I felt June 15, 2002, as I carried my new bride through the door of our hotel room -- giddy with the prospect of spending the rest of my life with the girl of my dreams. And unless I overdose on bacon or fall on the wrong side of Tony Soprano, we still have quite a bit of that "rest of my life" left. Makes it hard to be mad about temporary time demands.
Happy anniversary, Sed. I love you more than ever, and I still love you more than everything.
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. (so cute even *I* will bite my tongue on the sarcasm. congrats to both of you.)
Happy Anniversary!!! and Congrats!!! I cannot believe it's been 5 years! I told my Mom you two had a baby and she couldn't believe it. =) Avery is very lucky to have parents who are so deeply in love.
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