Six years and one day
We tied the knot on June 9, 2001, in Seal Harbor, Maine.
The wedding was supposed to take place on Little Hunter’s Beach in Acadia National Park. But the stairs were being repaired!
I didn’t handle that set-back all that well. Especially coupled with the fact that the Bar Harbor town clerk refused to issue us a marriage license because Scott didn’t bring his social security card along. Even though the clerk in Northeast Harbor had no reservations about it. (We got two to cover our butts.)
I had a bit of a meltdown that day.
I’m surprised Scott married me at all after the drama. Heck, I produce drama pretty much daily around these parts. Today’s included getting my head whacked really hard by the skull of a three-year-old, followed up by tripping over a plastic school bus in the living room and smashing my toes very hard, then crying in frustration as my cat threw up for the fourth time this week. Yada, yada, yada.
Yet even though our wedding seemed slightly doomed the evening before, the next day was one of the most perfect of my life. I was happy and carefree and excited. The back-up location proved to be a likely better spot than the first would have been. Scott wrote some killer vows that were both endearing and funny and so very Scott. And then we had a wonderful reception with the 20 people who joined us that day in Maine. I go back to that day so often in my mind, remembering how perfect it was.
So somehow, regardless of the drama, the two of us prevail. Happy day after our anniversary, Scotty! I had so much fun on our date night in Kalamazoo, and I’ll miss you while you’re away this week. Smooch!