Weddings That Were Meant To Be

Last fall, when I was booking our winter holiday, I was asked if I wanted to pay for cancellation insurance. I immediately said no. I’d already upgraded and had the ability to transfer the holiday within 24 hours of departure, so I figured that would suffice. I remember telling Shelly at the time “…the only way we aren’t going is if one of us is dead.” Then continued, “…should that be the case, after the funeral, I’ll gladly pay again!”

As expected, laughter ensued.

I've always been quite open in the comment that I’d never marry again. Not because I’m unhappily married but because after almost thirty years with the same person I don’t know how I would even begin to process cohabitating with anyone else. Then, when I reflect at what I've witnessed in the last two week, I will officially never say never. 

Just Married
Taken: July 25th, 2014

A little over a week ago my mother in law remarried. Not only did she marry a man she’s known since high school, in a small very private ceremony, she married the love of her life. It was beautiful. So intimate. Perfect!

Then, this past weekend I went to home for my cousins wedding. They too had dated in high school and all these years later found their way back to one and other. 

After the ceremony, the bride showed my cousins and I a small circular charm that read “Sweet 16” (which I presume she'd worn as her something old).

Their granddaughter was flower girl
Taken: August 2nd, 2014

She proceeded to tell us that at one point in her life (long estranged from my cousin) her apartment had been robbed. 

When the Police had gone through the dumpster at the rear of the building, the only piece of jewelry they recovered was the charm Denny had given her in high school. All these years later, she still had it, and she was wearing it on her wedding day, to him. 

She deemed Saturday the happiest day of her life.

As I looked around last weekend I smiled as I spied my family and their spouses. Some married less than a year and some married over fifty years. As we sat at dinner, the girls on the one side of the table and our spouses on the other, there was constant banter about the spoils of marriage. I guess my husband said it best when he finally announced to everyone within earshot…  “Take my wife… Pleeeeeeze!” 

Though he garnered a round of applause, he still brought me home. Once again, proving he'd drawn the short straw. I really do feel kinda sorry for the poor lad.

Thirty years later... He STILL can’t catch a break!