A lot has happened

Sam and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary yesterday. We thought that maybe we'd go up to Santa Barbara and spend an idyllic weekend on the beach. But an awful storm is coming in off the coast and we could have treacherous driving weather on the way home. So we stayed at home and slept in our own comfortable bed before going down to Palm Springs to roam around. This morning over breakfast we commented once again that we are shocked that it has already been six years, yet on the other hand we feel that we have been together forever, since we feel so comfortable together.
So today I thought I'd share some wedding photos with you so you can see how we started out. We got married during spring break of 2003 at Prospect Park in Redlands, California. There were only 10 of us present and that was just about right as far as I was concerned. I've always disliked the hoo-haw that goes on at weddings around candles, preludes and everyone wondering if the soprano can sing the high A at the end of "The Lord's Prayer," parading about with unnatural clothes on, and those ever-present cameras. Therefore, we just wore church clothes and stood on the side of a hill overlooking an orange grove in bloom that smelled wonderfully fragrant. Unfortunately, it smogged up for the occasion. The previous day we could see probably 50 miles clearly from that hill.
We were married by Will Alexander, whom I knew for over 20 years and who had just celebrated his 61st wedding anniversary the day before. There I stood, 10 weeks after major surgery, still puffy and very pale. My friend Bill, whose sense of propriety would not allow him to see me married without flowers, bought my bouquet and Sam's boutinierre. Sam told my mother that he was wearing a seersucker suit--for what reason, I don't know. It was a lightweight four season wool navy suit. I think he heard "seersucker" and assumed it referred to the cut of the suit, not realizing that mother conjured up images of him in a blue and white striped barbershop quartet outfit.
In the picture above you can see Sam's expression when Will sprung it on us that we'd be making up our own vows on the spot and that we'd start with Sam. I was quite obviously delighted at his discomfort.



Sam didn't even hesitate. He reflected most eloquently on the first time he saw me. He always comes through when it is time to make statements. He said that I was covered in light (I was actually standing under a ceiling light in the Indianapolis airport) and said something wonderful about how he would always see me full of light and love. I was so awestruck that he could have recited the Dow Jones averages and I wouldn't have caught on.
Now it was my turn.
Gulp...

My comments to Sam were comprised of unadulterated gibberish. I have no recollection whatever of what I said, and neither does he. I only saw his eyes and knew that I would forever be connected to this man. I kept thinking, Pay attention! You've waited years for this moment. Don't miss anything! I could hardly believe what I was doing after being single for 44 years, and I had real trouble staying present. I think I was subconsciously highly anxious, even though I didn't feel shaky or nervous and there were no burning questions in my (conscious) mind that I was doing the right thing.
It is interesting however, that I had awakened two mornings earlier at 3:30 a.m. in a panic. I woke him up immediately for the following exchange:

Sam!
What's wrong?
I can't marry you.
What?
We're too different.
What???
You don't like to talk and I'll live my life with someone who won't talk with me. I'm a therapist--I have to be able to talk.
Are you sure we need to talk about this now?
See?
Honey, what do you want to do?
I love you, but part of me wants to go right back to California.
Well, we can go back to California (A stifled guffaw from his direction).....Honey, we're in California now.
I wasn't amused and still felt panicky.
Sounding very sleepy, Sam said, We don't have to get married now. Do you want to wait?
Now he had my number. No. It's okay. But promise me that you'll always talk to me.
Okay. We can finish the conversation in the morning.
Are you sure? Do you understand what this means to me?
Yes.
Okay.
Okay?
Yeah. I love you.
Love you, too.

So when I sang to him at our wedding, I was more anxious, happy, startled, and fervent than I had ever been in my life:

I will give my love an apple without any core;
I will give my love a house without any door;
I will give my love a palace wherein he may be;
And he may unlock it without any key.

My head is the apple without any core;
My mind is the house without any door;
My heart is the palace wherein he may be;
And he may unlock it without any key.
(Traditional English Folk Song)

And that's what happened six years ago. We were surprised and delighted that the park gardener happened to be a former photographer for Olan Mills. He took this last photo for us, standing in front of one of the two Sequoia trees in the park. And so all 10 of us posed before we went to an Italian restaurant for our reception that Shelly generously organized and treated us to.
All I remember from the meal was the sparkling apple cider and the raspberry chocolate ganache cake for desert (no tasteless white cake for me!) And off we went into what is now six years.

We can hardly believe all the good things that this marriage has brought to us. Sometimes I almost want to pinch myself to see if it's me in this place. I would say that we are overwhelmingly happy together, even though there have been ups and downs, and for me, a rather long period of adjustment. But I think I'm settling into this thing finally. And I truly love Sam. We are ever so grateful that we have one another and have been so blessed.

It was a very, very happy day--six years ago, and yesterday too.