Four Years

Four years ago today I woke up in a fancy hotel room in Dallas. I opened my eyes to three of my best friends' quietly breathing (one was snoring) as I stared at an alarm clock placed haphazardly on a navy plush chair. I was getting married.
I went into the bathroom, fingers crossed I didn't have any pimples that sprouted overnight. I looked into the mirror and was already smiling. I'd been waiting for this day for a long time.

I was 24 at the time. To me, that's pretty young, but certainly old enough to know. And I'd known for what felt like forever. When Michael and I met we were 17 and it just felt like everything was right in the world. I get butterflies just thinking about it. It's sappy and gross, but it's true.
A friend recently reminded me that I came into class senior year of high school, turned on music, and “danced around the room announcing that you were dating Michael.” I had that same feeling four years ago, and I still have that today.

Getting ready for the wedding was a blur. I'd love to say I was laid back and at ease, but that isn't my personality. I was pacing and nervous. I wanted everything to be just right. I also thought my makeup was too heavy and ran outside the hotel room to smear it off. My friend found me and told me to chill out. I needed that. And some champagne.

Meanwhile, the boys were drinking and having a grand old time, not stressing at all. Not fair.

As we were heading over to the church it started lightly raining outside. I looked over at my Dad, my eyes wide. He knew exactly what I was thinking and said, “Rain is good luck.” It misted for only a short time and then a beautiful sky broke through.

At the church, I'm getting more and more nervous as the minutes pass. Over 300 people are here and I can here the crowd starting to trickle in. My mom holds my hands and helps me calm down. She reminds me that it's almost time for me to get on the dance floor. She knows this will put a smile on my face.

Truth be told, I didn't really chill out until my Dad looked over at me, just as I was about to walk down the aisle and he said, “LeeLee, it's all good.” That's my family nickname. Also, “It's all good” is an echo to my grandfather and happens to be my blog signature.

The ceremony was traditional Catholic one. So it was an hour long. Maybe I'm wrong but it seemed like everyone enjoyed it. The priest spent the homily talking all about our 6 year old relationship and even some jokes that people the the audience understood.