Four years ago today, I was married in the church I grew up in. I don't think I can explain exactly how special that was. My father-in-law officiated the service, Kim and I's families provided all the food, and Patrick Roy was on the groom's cake. (If I have one bit of advice for those planning to get married ever, it's this: make a list of photos you want long before the big day arrives, and do NOT deviate from that list. Take your pics, and get down to the reception to see your peeps) My sister was the musician, my sisters-in-law were the bridesmaids, and all of my best friends were either groomsmen or ushers. It was small, simple, and sweet. For us, it was close to perfect.
I really can't describe the last four years in a way that would do them justice here. (Which is fine, because I think that's the sort of sentiment that is not suited for this kind of setting) However, I would be remiss if, in three-hundred sixty-five days of blogging on everything from the death of Batman to creepy windmills to Hurricane Katrina, I did not state that I love my wife deeply, truly, and fully. She's done more for me than anyone I've ever met, and she's been the one who's challenged me to become everything that I have become in the almost-eight years we've known each other.
That's all I'll say on the matter to you, blog. It's my anniversary. I love my wife. And that's all you need to know :-)