I don’t remember what it felt like to wake up that morning, the one rainy Saturday of the entire fall.
How do people live through such days? Days that you enter knowing they are going to change only everything?
How does an indecisive, usually fearful girl keep on, one step and then the next, toward voluntarily making a forever promise? How does she still have an appetite?
It must be grace, must it not?
Grace that on a morning when I might have felt panicked, rushed, and full of tears, I felt an immense calm.
Under the raining, we were wrapped in a warm glory, and I remember being amazed by how many people were there, and I remember that my face hurt from smiling.
I haven’t the words to write the meaning of a year of marriage, even if I knew the meaning, which I’m not sure I do. But the same grace that gilded that very first day has touched every day since.
I remember that my hand trembled in his, and that I laughed and cried through the vows. And that we were so very glad.
We remain so.
©2016 by Stacy Crouch