1975

If you asked me what I was doing thirty-six years ago, I couldn't really tell you.  You would think that day would be burned into my heart.
But, be it age and time, or just a lack of maturity, I can't remember the day. All I know is, life was about to change for me forever.
I was getting married.

I don't remember packing my clothes, sorting through keepsakes, picking out a nightgown for the honeymoon...
I don't remember thinking about how far the future went, how I would feel living in an unfamiliar house, what I would fix for dinners or what side of the bed I'd sleep on.

I just remember feeling that this man was "the one".
That nothing else in the whole, wide world mattered except him.
And me.
Together.

No one could ever accuse me of marrying for money, because there was none.
I didn't tie the knot because I was desperate-( I was only nineteen and not quite an old maid yet.) Plus, life at my parent's house was both peaceful and comfortable.

It was his eyes. The way they looked at me as though I was the only person in a crowd...

It was his smile- that drove electricity through my veins like a warm drug...

It was his arms- that held me in a tender embrace that felt like none I had ever known...

It was his kiss- those lips that made me forget everything around me, and just surrender...

It was his long hair and Earth Shoes and button fly jeans...
It was his old Datsun, his stack of record albums, his German Shepherd, his calloused hands...
It was his laughter, his goatee, his smell, his voice, his shoulders, the patches on his jeans...

It was the way that being with him felt... right. 

That sitting in bean bag chairs listening to Gordon Lightfoot and Jackson Brown on the old turn table, drinking beer, smiling at one another- and not even talking- said more than words ever could.
It was the way he held my hand- curled it around his like he was going to protect me the rest of my life.
It was the way he stroked my hair, touched my cheek, shared his past- and planned his future.
It was re-fried beans, fish sandwiches, blue jean jackets and waterbeds.
It was staying up after midnight, eating out for breakfast, changing the oil in the car, and parking under the stars at the lake .

Maybe I don't really remember it all so clearly because we didn't have a big wedding. I wasn't frantic trying to organize pictures and flowers and friends and food.

We just drove to the preacher's house on 23rd Street and was married for a twenty dollar bill.

His eyes are now framed with wrinkles, his hands have become more calloused, his hair is short and peppered with gray...
He drives a new truck, we have a little dog, and we rarely listen to music from the '70's anymore.
He's traded his waterbed for Memory Foam, his Earth Shoes for work boots, and his bell bottoms for overalls.

But his smile and laughter still fills my heart with such goodness-
and when he holds my hand I know for certain that I have found "the one".

And today nothing else in the whole,wide world matters, except him.

And me.

Together.

I love you, Eldon...