It was 20 years ago today...

Twenty years ago this morning, I was married. It was a Saturday, the Apple Cup game day, in the University District. I have vivid snapshots in my head. The George Winston Pachelbel Canon. Waiting and watching my sister carry the twins down the makeshift aisle along the windows in the church lounge. My dad escorting me toward Graham - and Gail. All the parents filling the front row, together for this day only. Holding hands and saying vows. Oblivious to the squawking of my young sisters just a few feet from us. And afterward. The hugs and well wishes, and so many pictures (or were they taken beforehand?). Just the "real" parents. Just the "current" marital arrangements. Everybody on one side, then everyone on the other. Friends, the wedding party, and some just with us.

The sweet reception at the in-law's home in Magnolia. With food I helped prepare the day before. The cake, though, was not mocha - could I really have been that bride who called the bakery on the day of my wedding to complain? Yes. All the people from the different parts of my life - camp, high school, college - I guess I didn't have that many parts back then. Grandparents, so proud. And my other sister with baby Whitney, just two weeks old. Amazingly beautiful - was she aware of the looks, the whispers? Most likely she was.

It was a great day. That says it, and also doesn't say it at all. It was lovely. Just what I wanted - especially if I ignored everything else that was sitting behind the smiles that day. It was simple, fun, "me". There wasn't much "us". I didn't know at the time how true that was, and how devastating that would become. It is so good that we don't know what will become of us.

Twenty years since. And it's a beautiful morning.

leaves and life

I can see the trees reflected through the glass and windows. Bare branches, clinging vibrant, dying leaves. At home, the maple is bare this morning. Last night's wind shaking free the glowing yellow leaves that only yesterday were gently waving as I passed by on my way to the door.

Why did it bother me to see the tree so barren? The branches were now exposed - red, maroon, lovely.

Was it the suddenness of the change? Overnight - literally. It takes some adjustment on my part. Some catching up to where nature has already gone.

I want to slow it all down. This changing of the seasons and this big changing of my seasons. He's a senior in high school, already. I woke up and the trappings of childhood had fallen away. Here he is. Taller, leaner, exposed. And even though I've surely felt the winds of this change blowing ferociously, I'm still startled by what cannot be denied in the morning's cloudy light.

He's letting go. And now I have some catching up to do.