Robert (gurdonark) wrote,

brass anni

I love a morning drive with dark, foreboding clouds. Today's clouds reminded me of a rainy day 21 years ago. We call that day "our wedding day" with the kind of "just the facts, ma'am" that would make Sergeant Joe Friday of the LAPD on the old show Dragnet proud.

We were married in a Presbyterian Church in one of the Kansas suburbs of Kansas City. I remember a lot of greenery in the floral decorations. The processional was Purcell's "Trumpet Tune". The ceremony was brief, with no soloist and no sermon. I had to learn all sorts of new things to get married, like the difference between a morning coat and a tuxedo, and the way that little hors d'oevres that look like hamburgers do not taste like hamburgers.

"With this ring, I thee wed", "to have and to hold", "I now pronounce". White bride's cake, chocolate groom's cake. A tea to introduce my fiance to the folks in my folks' small southern town. A honeymoon in Nassau. 7,665 days of marriage.

Life is how I imagine quilting must be. Certainly, there are uncomfortable moments with sharp needles. A few times, one has to admit that a seam has been mis-sewn. But when the assemblage takes a pleasing pattern, all the patience and attention can create something lovely.

I find my life has its share of "if I could" though I don't live my life mired in regret. It's always grand, though, to be able to say "if I could choose", I'd choose the same choices again.
Sunday we'll dine at someplace French or Italian, and think of greenery and lovely years, and
lovely times ahead.
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