Well, the countdown has finally begun. It's been 313 days since Alexander asked me to marry him as we swam in the cool Atlantic waters off Cape Cod. I remember the magnitude of the moment settling down around us like fog, socking us in a dream-like world all our own. It felt like time stopped as my awareness of everything else fell away, leaving only our two heads bobbing above the water, our eyes smiling and shiny.
We finally made the long swim back to shore, reaching for each others hand, stopping to tangle up in a watery embrace, a kiss. My family awaited us on the beach but with a silent glance, we agreed to savor our precious secret a while longer. The only hint of our news was the smile emanating from somewhere deep within me - a smile I couldn't hide if I'd tried.
Our delight lasted a little more than an hour back on land. We got in a huge fight on the drive home: our joy replaced by anger, our fantasies of wedded bliss replaced by thoughts of dread and escape. And the truth is, it's been kinda hard ever since. These last 313 days of being engaged and planning a wedding have turned out to be, for me at least, some of the most challenging of my life.
Until now. 30 days 'til our wedding day. 30 days until I say "I Do" to the man I knew was my husband from the very moment I laid eyes on him 3 years ago. Today I can sense the hush of the ocean, the cool of the water, the intimacy of that moment and know it's been there through the chaos of these last many months, waiting for me to turn within...and remember.
Poetry and Musings of an Interfaith Minister on the Journey of a Lifetime.