Some days just really stand out in your mind. You know what I'm talking about. Almost like they've been captured out of time themselves - frozen and still in your memory. And even though you struggle to remember all the details, your mind amazingly remembers things you didn't even remember focusing on at the time: colors, smells, sounds... You may forget the exact words that someone said, but you can't forget the way your heart lept out of your chest when they said them. You may forget what order all the events took place, but you can't forget the way the day felt - warm or cold, frenzied or still, loud or quiet. And you can always remember if you cried.
Most of my frozen memory days involve me crying. Surprise, surprise. Like my first day of kindergarten. Or when my mom finally left after dropping me off at college. Or when Michael proposed. Or when I held my newborn baby in my arms for the very first time. Or the first time I ever heard the phrase, "I love you, Mommy!"
And not surprisingly, on the top of the list, was the day I married Michael. 8 years ago today. I bawled my eyes out. Michael was actually concerned. I was hysterical. It was embarrassing. I couldn't get a hold of myself. Michael thought it was because I didn't want to go through with the wedding, and now I thought it was too late to back out. What he didn't know at the time (until I told him later) was that I had been up until 4 in the morning writing a paper that was due the day we got married. I emailed it to my professor at 4:30 AM and went to bed for 2 hours before getting up to get ready for the most important day of my life. So I was emotional about getting married and exhausted over staying up all night. The combination didn't do well for my tear ducts.
As I hiccuped and sobbed through the ceremony, I was really concerned that I was going to spend the rest of the day crying. And while I tried to focus on the words of the ceremony and on Michael and how I felt about him, a little part of me was also worried about what all this crying was doing to my makeup.
Thankfully, I got it together just in time for me to verbally commit to marrying Michael. And it was as if "yes" was my magic word. Immediately my tears stopped, and a huge smile replaced them. I was giddy. Positively elated. It was official - I was Michael's wife. For time and all eternity.
When we exited the temple to get our pictures taken, I was like a light bulb that someone had just turned on. I was glowing. Our photographer followed us around for about an hour, taking pictures and posing and trying to direct the 50 people who attended where to stand. All at midday in the middle of June. It was hot. And too sunny. And chaotic. And I was exhausted. And hungry. All reasons to be a grumpy bride.
And yet, I couldn't stop smiling.
8 years later, there have been times when I've been exhausted. And hungry. And had reasons to be a grumpy wife. It's been chaotic at times. And there's definitely been some tears.
And yet, I still can't stop smiling.
