While I am aware my wedding day is over a year away, there is this nagging in the back of my mind.
This unconscious realization. A powerful pull. A culmination of years of hard work, compromise, dedication, experiences. I get to marry the person of my dreams. It should be enough – but it just doesn’t put into words what that day will mean when it gets here.
Matt and I have not had an easy relationship. Put aside the usual fights young couples have, we were long distance for quite a while. We were tested. By God, by fate… I am not the one to judge. Something or someone was testing us. Can they make it?
About a year after I met him I had my first surgery. Before surgery, I remember him taking me to the hospital (only weeks after I met him). I need valium. The world wouldn’t stop spinning. I had to get back to my dorm with my arms around him from behind. With every step we took I felt the bile in my throat, the tunnel vision started. I was sleepy from the valium. I swear the man who gave me my IV was in army fatigues and I referred to him as the Hulk. Matt has a different story.
One surgery happened. He stuck around. Celebrated recovery. The second surgery happened five years later. He stuck around. Cried for me. Celebrated when I needed the walker less. Came home on his lunch break to make me lunch. The third surgery happened two years later. He stuck around… under a year later he would ask me to marry him.
He is either utterly, completely insane crazy or a saint. I vote saint.
I picked him for a reason. That reason is simple. He reminded me of my dad. Don’t get Freudian on me now…
As I was growing up, my mom encouraged me to marry someone like my dad. It sounded like a tall order. I mean, my dad is a super hero. Pretty sure there aren’t a lot of those laying around. He could do anything. He did things even when he didn’t want to. He laughed and cried over my achievements and my pitfalls. He always supported me. He is still probably the first person who can make me laugh – hysterically. He didn’t know how easy it was for him to hurt me and how it was even easier to fix a broken heart. He was steadfast. His hands were calloused. He went to work every day – even on snow days – to feed us, provide for us. Now, this isn’t to make my mother sound like chopped liver. She was, and is, the best mama in the world. She worked just as hard. I have two parents that gave 100%!
How in the hell was I supposed to find another man like this?
I was on a mission. Find a man like my dad. I looked. I went to college thinking… well… he isn’t out there. I will be single for a year or so and focus on school, just have fun.
About three months later, when I had stopped looking… started having fun, there he was. In the strangest of places. I remember calling my mom to tell her about him. I asked, “Mom, how did you know you loved dad?” She said, “Honey, you just know.” I remember tearing up and thinking… ok… this is it.
I, of course, didn’t tell Matt that – not yet anyways. He was such a gentleman. I fell fast and fell hard and somehow… I still fall hard for him every day.
Matt is just like my dad… a super hero. He can do anything. He does things even when he doesn’t want to. He laughs and cries over my achievements and my pitfalls. He always supports me. He can make me laugh – hysterically. He doesn’t know how easy it is to hurt me and how it is even easier to fix a broken heart. He is steadfast. His hands are calloused. He goes to work every day – even on snow days – to feed me, provide for us.
So this, folks, is why my wedding day is so important. It is many, many years of searching, failing, finding, rejoicing in the little moments.
Check out this beautiful letter a father wrote his daughter on her big day: http://themighty.com/2015/08/to-my-daughter-with1-down-syndrome-on-her-wedding-day/