According to the best band ever, “It was twenty years ago today, Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play.” Although a Beatle fan, I have a better lyric, “It was twenty years ago today, Matt and I got married.” Ok, so I won’t have a career in song writing, but I have what most people dream of—the most wonderfully caring and loving husband that anyone could imagine.
It was the night before this blessed day, and my mother, sister-in-law and I were staying at a hotel near the church. Things were going smoothly, we chatted, we giggled and we shared our hopes. One hope should’ve been for a peaceful night’s sleep, because that is far from what happened. We had just said our good nights and got into bed when the fire alarm went off! So we got up and trudged down the seven floors to the ground. Yes, seven. Yes, in the middle of the night. Yes, on my wedding eve. It was determined that there was not a fire, so after what seemed to be an eternity, we headed back up the seven flights to the room. About a half an hour later, the screech of the fire alarm blared yet again. You guessed it. Down the seven flights we went. Again, we waited outside for the clearance to reenter. It was not quite as long an eternity this time. We were getting quite the workout. Step by step we went. At this point, I was silently thanking my step aerobics instructor for her ridiculously hard classes. The highlight of the night was yet to come, however. As we were ascending the stairs for the second time in the dark, my sister-in-law Mary turned to me and said with a straight face, “Welcome to marriage!”
