Thirty nine years ago today, the sound of my mom stirring in the kitchen preparing coffee for everyone else fast asleep in the bedrooms made the start of the day way too early for this non morning person. On my wedding day I was given the sofa bed and thus when the lights illumined the darkness of the early morning, I was awakened, although it would have been lovely to sleep in on my wedding day. This morning the start of the day came early. I would love to hear my mom stirring once again in the kitchen and instead of a sofa bed I woke up refreshed and without the nagging back pain that comes with sofa beds. Who knew that thirty nine years later, I would awaken in our home, in the process of getting a red roof in the pastoral and rural expanse in the mountains of North Carolina?
Those days in the long ago leading up to the day where we pledged our love were chaotic and challenging. I don't think the bridal day luncheon thing was in vogue back then, at least not with the crowd we ran with. Even the reception was low key, cake, coffee, punch and those soft pastel mints and I'm glad that is how it was. After our rehearsal, we all gathered for the rehearsal dinner, well all except for Roy and I. His grandmother insisted we go back to her hotel room and get her wedding gift she had brought us before we came to the dinner from the church. She was a feisty...no make that mean and nasty sort and knowing the ruckus it would create if we didn't do her bidding, we opted, no, submitted to her will. Roy wasn't happy with her at all and I was making a mental note, don't ever go visit Roy's grandmother. The gift she couldn't wait to give? The ubiquitous knitted brown and orange afghan that were oh so popular in the 70's, that would go oh so well with the woven cane bentwood rocker we would get for Christmas. Now here is the ironic part of this whole thing. My father, who kicked me out of my bedroom for wedding guests, my father who spent more money remodeling their home than he would offer to pay for the wedding....the man who wasn't pleased with the idea of me getting married, made everyone wait outside and in the lobby for our late arrival, no one was to sit down for dinner. That is one of the more thoughtful gestures offered to me by my father, even to this day.
So here we were two babies getting married, I had just turned 23 and Roy was 25. We thought we were so old and mature. Maybe it's a good thing we didn't have a clue about what life holds, we were young and in love and determined. When you marry someone you better be in love with them cause there are those days no matter how much you love them, it is hard to live with them and not let those quirky idoscrencies capture your attention with the end result of saying something like, "do you have to breath like that? Why do you make that face? The toilet paper goes over the top not from underneath." We even survived the "goal" years. Roy is a plan man and thus he has mapped out goals for most of his life. He writes them down, he talks to me about his goals which in turn affects our we goals. He used to ask me constantly, what my goals were. In fact, there was one booth at Los Tios where he seemed to ask me that question every time we sat there. Gee, talking about goals ruins the whole chips and salsa thing. I called it the goal booth. Now, I have goals both big and small, long term and short term...I just don't like writing them down or talking about them. So Roy would ask me, what are your goals? To which I would respond with the most shallow goals ever spoken...so I would respond, to have fun, to be popular and to have lots of money. Roy suggested that my goals did not seem to include him to which I'd answer, you're the lots of money part. Sometimes he would ask me what my short term goals were and I would just tell him my short term goals were to get him off this subject. Seems like when Los Tios remodeled their restaurant and the goal booth was no more, so went the way of Roy's goal questions. But I know differently, he realized I did have goals and he sees them better now, even though I don't write them down or even talk about them much. Besides my goal of straightening my knees before I walk seems rather trivial and hollow in the grand scheme of things.
I love Roy more today than I did thirty nine years ago. His influence has made me a better person and his love has captured my heart. Roy makes me laugh and his safety moment emails are genius! He works hard and provides a great living for us. Roy's compassionate heart for others in need is huge! He is full of surprises yet so consistent daily. He is not a macho man but he is one of the strongest men I know. Roy is generous and discerning. I love our conversations, he makes me think and ponder. He makes me feel safe and believes that I am capable in so much more than I believe myself to be. In the recent past I have had several friends say to me, Roy is a good man. He is! He is the love of my life and my best friend. Here is to many more years together, loving God, one another, others and life. There isn't anyone else I would rather do life with.