Today is my 35th
wedding anniversary.
Like every wedding, it
had those tense moments that give people something to talk about.
My brothers both had
roles in the wedding, but they also had assignments for earlier that day.
Gordon’s job was to pick up the food for the reception, and Donald’s was to
pick up the bride. But first, my mother sent them off together to find candles
for the centerpiece at the head table.
The problem? They decided
to take a detour and visit a museum.
As Mama waited nervously
for the food, I waited nervously for my chauffeur. Although I don’t remember
for sure, I think the wedding did start on time. But it was close.
Then Roland held out the
wrong hand when we exchanged wedding rings. I didn’t know what to do, especially
since the ring wouldn’t go over his knuckle. I finally left it halfway on. But
I must have giggled, because his uncle kidded me about it for years. And I
never could convince him that it was Roland’s fault.
It wasn’t a perfect
wedding, but it was memorable.
No marriage is perfect,
either. Those people who expect it to be are doomed to divorce.
But mine is close enough.
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