8,772 Hours Later...
Jimmy and I decided on a night wedding. A warm South Carolina evening ceremony.
There would be dinner and dancing when the sun went down.
We got married 365 days ago.
That's a whole damn year. Where does the time go?
Well, for once, I know the answer to that.
I know we've experienced a lot in our marriage.
Things others, hopefully, will never have to experience.
So what have I learned in our first year?
First and foremost: The vows. You have to mean that stuff. I wish I could go back and listen to what our minister said that day.
I'm sure I would hear it differently now.
I do remebering him being great.
I remember such perfect weather.
I remember the music at our reception being weird.
I remember people talking, drinking and... getting louder and happier as the night progressed.
All we wanted was for friends and family to have a good time... and rememeber they had it at our wedding.
I didn't drink as much as everyone apparently thought I would.
A lot of people gave me the "you want to remember your wedding" speech.
Oh, I remembered nearly everything.
I remember not seeing people dancing thinking... "Why aren't people dancing?"
Wondering if people were bored.
I worried if people liked the food.
I worried about if I made the right decisions with the seating arrangements.
These are the things I used to worry about.
So, over 8,000 hours later... I worry about different things.
Pressure sore prevention.
Lack of feeling, movement.
The future, and how far into it all of this will be a factor. Will it be forever?
On August the 8th -- nearly two months into our marriage, I'm glad I didn't have to worry about things like:
A funeral service.
A headstone, and what to put on it.
I know it's morbid, but it puts things in perspective for me.
Death was knocking on our door that day.
We said, "Nah, we're good."
I'm grateful I still have my husband, even if he requires more work. More help. More attention.
My husband has such wonderful qualities.
Those are the reasons I married him.
None of that has changed.
He's the most drama-free person I've ever meant. I so needed that in a husband.
He takes things with a grain of salt, brushes stuff off. I read into every damn thing.
I am math stupid. I suck at math. I'll ask him a simple math question, and instead of calling attention to the fact that I should know that, or making fun, he just answers the question. God bless his smart college-educated self.
I can tell him gross personal stuff or I'll act like a 10-year old. I'll dance dorky like my parents, or I'll rewind a funny TV scene 18 times.
He'll listen to me vent about BS.
He just gets it.
The ying to my screwed-up yang.
He loves his sports.
He loves his action-packed-blow-things-up-Die-Hardish movies but will suck it up and watch a chick-flick with me when needed.
He likes dogs, but understands my allergies won't allow.
He knows important figures and events from the past that I don't know. I love that he knows the stuff that he does. Even if it does mean he's an oldie moldie.
He loves his friends. You should see his face light up when he's got a good buddy on the other line. He loves you all so much, you just don't know. Well, I get the feeling you do.
He loves his family. He would do anything for them. He loves checking in on the little ones. He loves letting them know he's looking out for them, in his own tough-guy way.
He loves his Mamma.
He loves surprises. Very unlike me.
He loves chocolate. Very like me.
He is phenomenal with children. When we cross that bridge one day, he'll kill at it.
He's got a great smile. It melts hearts around the globe. It's legend (wait for it) dary.
He's got the best attitude you can ask for. Not sure I could do this with anyone else.
For such a crummy situation, he makes this thing bearable. He fuels my ability.
We're here to say: you don't have to be miserable. Life can go on. We had to dig deep, and look for the foundation of what made our relationship strong to begin with.
Thank God we're both strong people.
6-10 years in the news business will do that to a person. Seriously.
Our first year of marriage: some could say it was hard. Some could say it was traumatic.
We've got many more.
And we're not done living.
I love you, James Walter Moore, Jr.
We're gonna continue doing this thing together.