One hot summer day, ten years ago, we said “I Do” before a small group of close friends and family.
It was 101 or 110 degrees (depending on who is telling the story), but we still danced with abandon.
I asked everyone to keep me away from red wine so I didn’t stain my dress, but then went on to drink vodka and cranberry juice all night.
There was no tossing of the bouquet, no garter belt, no chicken dance, but we cut the cake together, danced to our song, and kissed anytime a glass was clinked.
We said no to a limo, but rode off into the night on the back of a chauffeured paddle boat.
The year was 1999, and even though the world (or, at least, Prince) was worried it could all end soon, for us, our lives were just beginning.
Happy Anniversary, my love.