Nineteen Years Later

Ohmygawd, we were babies... not REALLY. I was 25. He was 29, but MAN... time hasn't been kind. I mean not bad... he really is only gray in the beard and has a full head of hair... but he is a little jowly... I have crows feet and laugh lines... and age spots (from my sun worshipping) and gray at the temples (there might be some forty extra pounds—that was one of my leanest times)... but I digress...

So nineteen years ago today I got up earlier than I wanted. The rehearsal dinner at Alexi's had included a little more wine than was a good idea, though the image of the belly dancer draping her shawls across my father-in-law-to-be still makes me smile—he's a darling little old man—and was, even then. (truth be told, the pictures show that he was a darling little old man by about age 40—at the wedding he was 68).

We went to the hotel where my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. were all staying—you see we lived in Portland. All Mr. Tart-to-be's family was in Portland. Most of our friends were in Portland (and all the wedding party was at least in Oregon). So the decision was MY FAMILY had to travel. And other than one cousin and two of my step-siblings, they did, at least my mom's side, but that was always who I was really close to.

I remember opening some gifts at the hotel, eating some doughnuts... the day is a little vague... I know it was raining off and on... it being the end of November in Oregon and all... There were last minute prep things to handle... and then the bride's maids collected at the apartment I shared with Soon-to-be-Mr.Tart while he went... you know... I'm not sure where he went... Probably to Fat Mike's. The brother-in-law was Best Man, but fat Mike lived closer and was more likely to have an ample liquor supply... funny, after all this time that I don't know where they went. I trusted in the brother-in-law that he would be there on time...

At 3:00 we (the girls) walked to the church (yes, it was that close, and yes, this actual church, though it looks like they've done some grounds improvements since then—the building was always gorgeous, but outside wasn't this nice).

HA! second digression coming on: Mr. Tart and I are not particularly religious (in fact I have completely diverged since that time), but both of us had Presbyterian FAMILY ties. Since outside in November would be absurd, we decided to please our families... my grandma, in particular, was very pleased. /digression

We then got dressed, and then started pictures... three HOURS of pictures... My flowers were GORGEOUS—the gift of the family of my best friend and maid of honor: mom and aunts—her uncle had a florist license, helped them purchase and then they actually did them ALL—huge white lilies and lavender roses. Jessie, Marian and Martha, if you see this, you made it the prettiest wedding imaginable!

The dresses were awfully flashy, even by standards of coming off the 80s... but it was sure a gorgeous wedding party... Mr. Tart-to-be muttered “12 minutes” to me often... his goal for the length of the ceremony... I think it ran closer to twenty, but not unduly long... and then we headed... officially Mr. and Mrs. Tart, to the Laurelhurst Club for a long party...

It's never been easy, but on balance, it's been good. Mr. Tart balances my irrational optimism... ever the wet blanket of reality. He remembers we have children EVERY DAY, even if sometimes he has to vent about me forgetting it. I meet our financial needs (mostly) while he meets our tangible ones (feeding us, scheduling us, meeting our maintenance requirements...)

So I will just throw out a Happy Anniversary, Mr. Tart! I love you!