I remember waking up early in my parents home on the morning of my wedding fifty years ago on the 20th of June. I was terrified. I don't know if all young brides feel this fear of the unknown, but I know I did. I loved Michael. We had been engaged for a year. Still, I didn't really know him. I loved him, but I didn't know him. And so I woke to Mom's excitement and my Dad's calm sense of happiness. I guess because he was marrying off the second of his five daughters. For an Italian father, I imagine there is a sense of success in that.
I prepared for my walk down the aisle in a state of disbelief that remains to this day. How could this great-looking, kind, wonderful man want to marry me? And why was I afraid? I don't know why he loved me and why I loved him. But because we were so deeply in love, I went through with the wedding. In a daze. I look at the pictures, but I don't remember any of the actual ceremony.
Today we would have been celebrating our 50th anniversary, but I lost him ten years ago. For every day of those forty wonderful years that we were together, I marveled at how lucky I was to have him in my life. And I thank God for giving him to me for such a long time. What a gift. Happy Anniversary, Sweetie.
That brought tears to my eyes, Lee.
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