This week, Randy and I will celebrate 17 years of marriage and I’d like to share a story with you. I hope you enjoy it.
I nervously paced back and forth in the church auxiliary room while our family and friends awaited my grand entrance. I reflected on the day’s events. It began early with a delicious mocha and bagel as I drove sixty miles to my hairdressers. Two hours later, she handed me a mirror.
“Do you like your hair and make-up?”
“Like it? I love it! I feel like a princess. Thank you so much!”
On my way to the church, I called my future mother-in-law, Dianna, to let her know I would be there soon. Upon my arrival, my future sister-in-laws whisked me into the preparation room to help me with my dress and final touch-ups.
“Hurry up! It’s almost time. You don’t want to be late for your own wedding. Do you?”
They excused themselves and I was alone for the first time all day. I heard our guests arriving and groomsmen seating them. I gazed into the mirror one last time and thought to myself. After being the bridesmaid for the umpteenth time, I’m finally a bride at thirty-five-years-old.
I grinned while I reflected on our initial meeting two-and-a-half-years earlier. Dianna and my manicurist talked about us for one month and then exchanged our phone numbers. Randy and I met for coffee the following Friday and found we had a lot in common. After a lengthy discussion, we grew hungry and continued our conversation across the street at a Chinese restaurant. Three hours later, the owner leaned against the wall with folded his arms. “Sorry, folks we closed 30 minutes ago.” We chuckled as we excused ourselves.
My reflection was interrupted when my favorite song started playing on the church sound system. Our friend, Gervy, put together a video collection of our childhood and dating photographs. I was pleasantly surprised to hear it in stereo, because originally he was authorized to use his projector with tiny speakers. Sniffles and sighs of “Ahhhh” soon followed as folks reminisced. Goose bumps traveled up and down my spine as I anticipated my long-awaited walk.
Suddenly, my wedding coordinator rushed in with a huge smile, “Come on Rebecca. It’s time!”
I met my father in the hall leading up to the altar.
Tears filled his eyes, “You look so beautiful my daughter.”
Our friend, Shannon, sang “This is the Day that The Lord has Made” while her husband, Blaine, accompanied her on guitar.
As we strolled down the aisle, everyone stood up and cameras flashed. I looked at my beaming groom. We both had waited a long time to find the person we would spend the rest of our lives with. Next to him stood his groomsmen; his brothers Mike, Ryan and my brother Greg.
When I reached him, our Pastor asked my dad the proverbial question.
“James Mosberger, who gives this woman to marry this man?”
“We do,” he proudly said. He gently transferred my right hand into my future husband’s hand.
I stepped forward, but struggled. I quickly looked behind me and noticed my father standing on the lace train of my dress. Stunned, he forgot to sit down after giving me away. Next to me stood my bridesmaids and my long time friends Joyce, Gillynn and Carina.
Our ceremony was traditional with scriptural readings, the lighting of unity candles, Holy Communion, and marital vows. Unbeknownst to us, during our wedding band exchange, Pastor Jim read love letters we wrote to each other. Tears now filled my eyes and Randy gently wiped them away with his thumb.
I savored the concluding words, “By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. It’s my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Randall Krusee.”
The crowd erupted in applause as we kissed and we passed by them.
Seventeen years later, we are still going strong and living in the majestic Santa Cruz Mountains with our fifteen-year-old son and thirteen-year-old daughter. As a tradition, on our anniversary, we watch our wedding video and are reminded of our commitment to each other.
Do you have a special story to share with us, please do?