A boy, a girl, a wedding....

37 years. 

Andy and I were 21 years old, and had been dating about 2 1/2 years when we walked down the aisle at the Sam Houston Avenue Church of Christ in Huntsville.  I was wearing the first dress I'd tried on; Daddy didn't even have time to park the car, smoke a cigarette and walk in before I was ready to go.

We married in Huntsville because it just felt right; it's where our story so far had played out, and my parents - while I imagine were more than a little disappointed - were accepting.  I think we did the whole thing on about $1000.  Over half of it was on the pictures, so you get the idea. 

Mama was a superb seamstress, but she didn't want to make my dress. "I'll be sitting there, looking at each seam instead of watching you get married."  (She was, after all, a perfectionist when it came to that sort of thing!)

We had a quartet of some of our best friends; and my brother, Gary, sent a reel-to-reel recording of some songs.  I remember one sweet day when Mama and I sat in the floor of my room at home, going through each of her 78 albums to find a great song.  Our final choice was "No arms can ever hold you like these arms of mine."  Jon Rhodes sang it in his beautiful tenor voice that I hear in my head today. 

Steve was Andy's best man.  He was a good one; hid our car in the bus stop across the street, because Andy was adamant that no one put shoe polish on his paint job!  As we were driving off, a friend tried to tie something on the bumper, and Steve whipped out his knife at just the perfect moment to snip it off.  The photographer caught the moment perfectly; Steve standing there looking all proud as Lynn gasped at his quickness! 

Cathy was my maid-of-honor.  She was scared to death to be in the spotlight, but she was the obvious choice.  She'd been right there with me in every moment of my life to that point, and there was no way I was going down that aisle without her. 

Andy didn't want me to cry, so when it came time for me to say my vows, I couldn't look at him and NOT  cry.  I said my vows with my head bowed, which to some may have looked odd, but it was the only way.  Ron Goodman was our minister, and he said the sweetest things about us.  We saw them in the Fall on our vacation, and we reflected on that day with lots of good memories.

My uncle Buddy.  He was Bohemian  to the bone.  Showed up at the church in his 70s van that looked straight out of the junk yard, wearing his ever-present overalls.  Asked where he could change, and surprised us all in a black velvet tuxedo complete with tophat!  (It was May, remember!)  No telling what sacrifice he had to make to afford that tux, but he looked sharp!  I remember him coming through the receiving line over, and over, and over to congratulate us and give me a kiss.  I'm smiling now, just thinking about him.

But one of my sweetest memories was Daddy.  All the way down the aisle, he patted my hand, saying "It's all so pretty, Amy."  And when we met up with him after the ceremony, he grabbed me and just cried like a baby.  Never really saw him like that before or afterwards.

So, here we are, 37 years later.  Grayer, wiser, happier than I  could have imagined.  After too many years of not being able to, I'm wearing my rings today, and I probably could get my dress on if I wanted to.  Our daughters have grown into amazing women before our eyes, and our grandchildren bring us immeasurable joy.   The Church remains the focus of our lives, and - thankfully - we are healthy.  The future looks sweetly bright.

All I knew 37 years ago was that I was in love with Andy.  I wanted to spend every moment of my life with him, and I had no doubt that it would be forever.
Did I have a clue as to what was to come; of course not.  But I KNEW that we would face it together, until the end.  And somehow, all these years later, not knowing what the future holds looks a little different than it did on that Saturday - but I know the outcome will be the same. 

And I praise God for that.