i take you and pile high the memories

August 18, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary 

five years ago today mr. greene and i were married. the day glowed green, the sun setting and sending us off with a sparkle. i wore pink sandals, he wore striped socks. there were many daisies and many spectators. my mother and i made my dress and tightly stitched the buttons from her wedding dress up the back of mine. the morning of the wedding my friends and i drove (too far) to pick flowers. a flower girl forgot her shoes and is sock-footed in most of the pictures. the cake was green(e) and dotted. i don’t remember what it tasted like. there were many little lights and flickers. we ignored the tinging of glasses and chipped away at the fruit slush.

ernie wore his glasses, the old pair, brown and swirled, so that he could see me as i came through the door. i didn’t have my glasses (vanity), but the squinting of my eyes due to the smiling of my lips made the front of the church clear. a stained glass and turquoised blue hovered over.

if you take the universe and all time and cast it out in one large line of events, the five year wink of our love and covenant seems small and, perhaps, unnoticeable. but not to us, we who take notice of winks, winkings, winkers. this morning we baffle, “i feel like it was last week, yesterday, that we got married.” after twenty years there are people who say the same thing. “some people,” ernie smiles.

we will be those people, a thousand times and again. i’m not entirely sure where five years has gone. perhaps it’s the time that work takes, the driving, the working, the creating perhaps it’s the snips ot time wasted on meaningless activity that drones throughout the day. perhaps the boys take time and it wraps itself around their bones and organs like ligaments, shooting upward in a mesh of a thousand different strands, the workings of only to be seen in a photograph that elicits exclamations asking about the whereabouts of the minutes, hours, and days.

mr. greene is my one true love, the one who inspires me to work hard, to create, encourages me to be and to do better. he is the one who loves me the most, who is faithful and real and full of life. he’s dreamy and cool, too (which one might sniff at if one does not have such), and i often wonder exactly how this all happened to a klunk, a girl full of shortcomings, such as myself.

happy anniversary, dearling. sixty, seventy, more?

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