Four years agotoday, (Martin Luther's birthday, BTW), I was standing in a long white satin dress exchanging vows with this guy in a morning coat, in front of my then-bishop, with fiance's rector assisting, and the priest who had played yenta for us preaching.
A young parishioner shyly came up to us before the service and asked "where are her feet?" So I got to lift up my skirt and show her my shoes. We believe Christians shouldn't give in to the power of superstition, so we took photos before the wedding and we walked in together, which is something I had wanted to do since I saw some friends do it years before.
Other funny bits: our matron of honor's son, who was just old enough to be discovering bodily functions, and who apparently during our vows was saying loudly, "I spit! I spit!" (You can hear his voice on the tape, but you can't quite make out what he is saying.) Our matchmaker's son came up to me during communion with a picture he had drawn for us, and which I would have happily carried out with my bouquet, but one of our attentive ushers (a parishioner from church) held on to it for me.
It was the culmination of an amazing year and a half. We were both ordained deacon in June of 2000, met on August 1, 2000, he was ordained to the priesthood on January 25, 2001, he proposed on February 14, I was ordained on May 8 (Julian of Norwich, in a wonderful coincidence--the bishop picked the day, not me) and we were married on this date. I think it took me a year to recover.
Four years, two moves, two cats, a thousand books, a few skeins of yarn, some vintage records, unexpected disappointments and unlooked-for joys--I wouldn't trade it for anything. I am blessed by my husband who is patient, gentle, funny, kind, supportive, loving and true.
Happy Anniversary, honey!
edited to add: After four years, I can tell you that the greatest threat to our marriage is not other people's covenanted relationships, gay or straight, but the daily ins and outs of American society and culture--i.e. money and time.