I like this picture from our wedding, as silly as it is, because it feels very 'us'. Not too posed, not too slick, and with a healthy dash of silly to proceedings!
I feel so lucky to have married someone who makes me laugh every day. Someone who believes in me. And someone who inspires me too.
Matthew, I met you eight years ago today, and two years ago I was lucky enough to become your wife. It's been a heck of a journey so far - thank you for being the person sitting beside me in the rollercoaster. I found this reading, from that sunny day in August, when I was tidying the other day, and right now feels like the perfect time to reshare it. Happy, happy anniversary, darling.
Union from The Beginning to End by Robert Fulghum
You have known each other from the first glance of acquaintance to this point of commitment. At some point, you decided to marry. From that moment of yes to this moment of yes, indeed, you have been making promises and agreements in an informal way. All those conversations that were held riding in a car or over a meal or during long walks — all those sentences that began with "When we're married" and continued with "I will and you will and we will"- those late night talks that included "someday" and "somehow" and "maybe"- and all those promises that are unspoken matters of the heart. All these common things, and more, are the real process of a wedding. The symbolic vows that you are about to make are a way of saying to one another, "You know all those things we've promised and hoped and dreamed- well, I meant it all, every word." Look at one another and remember this moment in time. Before this moment you have been many things to one another- acquaintance, friend, companion, lover, dancing partner, and even teacher, for you have learned much from one another in these last few years. Now you shall say a few words that take you across a threshold of life, and things will never quite be the same between you. For after these vows, you shall say to the world, this - is my husband, this - is my wife.
