Twenty three years ago today, we stood facing one another in the covered pavilion at a local park on the river, as it was raining torrentially, and our plans to be wed on a pier overlooking the river were dashed. The day before was clear, as was the day after, but that day, February 9, 1990, was drenched and gray. The officiant who gave us our vows told us, "You know, it's actually good luck to be married on a rainy day." As he smiled, I wondered if he decided that bit of information would be a good self fulfilling prophecy for us to embrace as we began our lives together.
Much has transpired in these 23 years together. We've weathered many storms since then, the largest of which, was realizing our dream of the "perfect family" with two kids was not to be. We grieved the loss of a "normal family" life, until we finally realized that it really does not exist. We incorporated what life had given us as our "normal" and went about the task of living. It has not been easy by any means, but after all these years, what I do know is that we became stronger and stronger friends. For only we know the truth of the struggles, and the fact that we share those makes the burden divided. We smile when things don't go the way we planned, as well, they just sometimes don't. We lean on one another, and we know that we can survive anything.
The doorbell rang this morning and when I opened it, there stood a delivery man with this lovely arrangement for me. A token of love, of appreciation, and of a deep and abiding friendship with the man I said "I do" to all those years ago.