| Thursday, September 01, 2005 |
| to my love |
Weddin0003
Originally uploaded by ieatcrayonz.
Dearest Rancito,
Today we've been married for 4 years. That's 1,461 days or 28 dog years (56 if you count both dogs).
I tend to wonder what my life would be like if our paths had never crossed, how weird it was that I ran into a high school friend in college that invited me to a party that weekend, how I was late to the meeting place where I was promptly shoved into a single cab truck and sat so close to the driver that he couldn't steer the wheel, for the other 3 or 4 occupants were trying their best to help me lose a couple of dress sizes by squeezing me in like a nutcracker.
I asked the driver his name.
You: "Rancito."
Me: "Lancito?"
You: "RANCITO."
Me: "Show me some ID, buddy!"
And you did. We stopped at a gas station to fill up. When you and the other 43 occupants of the truck went inside, I washed your windshield. It was absopositively filthy with bug carcasses. You noticed, and I'm sure it crossed your mind on whether or not you should ask me to marry you on the spot. Uh huh. I'm good.
We stayed out all night, had tons of fun, and you asked for my number. This is a summary of events that followed...
Day 1: Boy, that was fun. He sure was a nice guy. Hope he calls me today.
Day 2: Hmm, he was probably busy this weekend. Or maybe he's just trying to finalize the details of a romantic dinner for our first date. I think I'll sit by the phone all night...just in case.
Day 3: What is the heck is this guy thinking? Did he NOT see the incredible chemistry we had? I cannot believe he totally blew me off. OH NO! What...what if it was meant to be...that we were supposed to get married. What if he lost my number? What if....RINNGGGG!
Yeah, 3 days you waited. And, no, not because you're a jerk, but because that's the advice your older three sisters gave you. WHAT WERE THEY THINKING????
But we can laugh about it now. That was seven and a half years ago. The strawberry birthday cake with sprinkles that you made for me the following week totally made up for it. Three days of fretting is the equivalent of 30 minutes of prep work to make a cake in the dating world. Okay, so cake cancels out everything.
The following year I did my internship in San Angelo, TX. I hate to drive, so you did what any loving boyfriend would do, and drove 1,000 miles round trip to visit me on several weekends. These were the days before $2.89 gasoline, but I still think you would have braved the long boring drive all over again, complete with intravenous Mountain Dew drip.
The next few years are a blur (Scout's Honor, I do not have a drinking problem) with nephew births, job hunting, finals, and graduation. In February (our last semester), you showed up at my apartment one evening with a bunch of Albertson's flowers and wearing your grandfather's leather bomber jacket. As I cut the stems in my kitchen sink, you walked over...still suspiciously wearing that hot jacket. You grinned sheepishly in my kitchen, got down on one knee in my kitchen, and pulled out a white jewelry box in my kitchen. You smiled so big and opened the box in my kitchen upside down, and PLOP! out fell the ring and under my cabinets in my kitchen. I laughed and cried with excitement as you dove for the ring in my kitchen and finally found it and asked me to marry you in my kitchen.
That is so you, honey.
I had seven months to plan a wedding. I knew we had to have your dad marry us. There was no way around it. I loved that little church and all the people in it. Even though it was an hour and a half drive, I knew we could do it. Our moms and the church ladies were so helpful in getting things ready for the wedding and reception. It was a huge relief. That, and the fact we kept everything small and simple, there was no huge wedding loan required.
The wedding date arrived quickly. We drove up the night before to help out and go to the wedding rehearsal and dinner. As your mom and sisters were giving me an impromptu bachelorette party, the phone rang. My parents and mom's brother and sister had been in a wreck. They were driving the infamous Oklahoma backroads and a teenager rolled a stop sign and t-boned their rental car. Dad was pretty banged up because the air bag didn't deploy, and mom had a run-in with my grandmother's punch bowl that was stowed in the back window. It flew forward and broke on her head. My Uncle Neal was in the best shape because he didn't brace for the impact. Although life can be cruel, I believe that God protects people in special ways. Uncle Neal is Down Syndrome.
My father-in-law and I hopped in the car and sped off through the countryside. We were pretty quiet on the trip, but I expected the worst, as I played through horrible images in my mind. My daddy was hurt. And dang it, I'm supposed to get married tomorrow! Who does this kid think he is raining on my parade?
Scrapbook0008
Originally uploaded by ieatcrayonz.
See him in the back? Yeah, I wanted to beat him down.
Scrapbook0012
Originally uploaded by ieatcrayonz.
The banged up crew.
We missed the rehearsal and headed straight to the restaurant for the wedding rehearsal dinner. It hurt for my dad to turn his neck. My brother came up to me and said that he would walk me down the aisle if dad couldn't. Just as the tears almost started to Niagara Fall, dad said, "No, I'll do it!" And he did.
I hear of some women having to take pills to calm themselves on their wedding day. Not me. I was as relaxed as snail snot. It didn't matter that my FIL's tux jacket wasn't picked up, that our mom's didn't have unity candle lighters, and that our 2 year old nephew ring bearer freaked out, screamed, and retreated once he hit the aisle (his mom ended up walking him down). It didn't matter one bit that some of Rancito's cousins showed up with blue hair and camo pants or that my upper lip was broken out from waxing it. I felt blessed because my family came out of that wreck alive. Things could have been much, much worse. And I knew it.
We had a beautiful time on our honeymoon in Colorado. Our room was gorgeous, I loved putting the convertible top down on our rental car, and I can't wait to go hot air ballooning and rafting again (although I could do without the ragweed field landing and drunken strangers in the raft).
Honey, it's been a long road interlaced with a couple of bumpy Oklahoma gravel road detours along the way, but we've made it - together. I can't think of anybody else in the world who is able to read me so well, put up with my crap, and still love me and our baby girl more than life itself. You are a wonderful husband and father and it makes me feel like the happiest girl alive.
I love Farkota. I love Lauren. I love you. Happy Anniversary, darling. |
| posted by ieatcrayonz @ 9/01/2005 |
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