One year ago today, I woke up in my childhood bedroom and walked upstairs in sweatpants and a T-shirt. I went over to the window and looked out at the grey sky and damp lawn. It was about 8am. My mom came up and read a text she’d received from our family friend, Barbara: “On the day of our wedding it was misty in the morning and cleared up in the afternoon. Today will be perfect, too!” Barbara had gotten married in that backyard, and today I was, too.
I wasn’t worried about the weather. I knew it would clear up (which it did — thank you, Seattle, and your weirdly beautiful fall weather). I wasn’t worried about much of anything, actually.
It’s funny the things you remember after the fact. Sitting in the living room the night before the wedding, my family drinking martinis and me sipping Alka Seltzer Night (I’d had a wicked cold the week leading up to the wedding). Mary following me around like a sheepdog, herding me from one task to the next (“Nope, go this way, you have to put on your makeup.” “You can do that later, go change out of your sweatpants.” “You’re coming with me, sit down, here’s some champagne.”).
Going out to the garage to greet Byron after he arrived, sneaking a kiss. Waking up at 2am in the hotel room the night after the wedding and getting a can of Pringles from the mini-bar. Reading Game of Thrones in bed while trying to quietly eat Pringles (IMPOSSIBLE) so as not to wake Byron.
The wedding was great — but the year after has been better, a huge year full of adventure and change. We bought a house, we merged finances, we’ve learned better how to challenge and support one another all while planning and saving and setting goals for the future. And I’ve gotta say, so far we’re nailing it. We’re more of a team than we ever were before. And it’s so nice to not have anything big looming on the horizon — no wedding to plan, no mortgage to figure out. We can just be together, being us. And “us” is a pretty good thing to be.
One year down. To be continued…