September 12th is turning out to be a whole lot different from July 12, the day Brent and I got hitched.
It’s rainy and dreary today. We lost power last night and it was an unbearable night without a fan or air conditioner. We normally have the central air, a window unit and two or three fans going at the same time. And it’s still sweltering in some rooms.
I woke up delighted that the power had been restored and my hair was no longer drenched in sweat.
On that July morning, the sun was blazing high in the sky, but I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before either. I’d stayed up into the early morning hours sewing stripes onto my groom’s USAF blues. He earned them, he deserved to wear them (and boy, did he look handsome!).
I was weary and cranky and so many things to do before 3 p.m. Our wedding was super small, so guests were pretty much able to fend for themselves. Brent stopped by around 11 a.m. and when I answered the door of my hotel room he pulled me into a big, bearlike hubby hug. It was just what I needed.
We celebrated our 2-month anniversary a couple of days ago by going back to the place where Brent asked me to marry him — the Louisiana Boardwalk. After stopping at The Chocolate Crocodile, we had dinner at the same restaurant we dined at after our engagement.
I could still envision the massive Christmas tree that stood at the center of the plaza where we took our first Christmas photo as fiance and fiancée.
It was a quite different scene back in November, as the wintry months were creeping into the heat and humidity of the South. Christmas music piped in from afar, white lights and garland wrapped the entire boardwalk with cheer and holiday spirit. The tiny bridge where Brent proposed was decorated with red garland and ribbon.
Today, life is so very different. I love being married more and more each day. I love my husband more than I thought possible. And I’m secure in his love for me, too. We’re growing together and with the Holy Spirit in our common faith and love. It’s pretty neat to see that happening.
I’ll be honest here, our wedding was nothing like I’d dreamed it would be since I was, say, 8. The church was more modern, the guests fewer, the music less compelling and the dress night as magical as I’d always planned in my mind. But the marriage — that is a world better than I’d thought it would be (already)!
On July 12, I felt like I was a highlander stuck in an English court. Today, I feel like Brent and I are out standing on a bluff high above foggy springs, next to a castle. I am truly in the heaven of my heart (stole that one from Whiteheart. Thanks guys!), even if I’m still having to remind myself that yes, I am indeed married.
And to seal the whole amazing thing, I just received my first letter addressed to “Mrs. Sarah Bays.”