A Rock and an Ocean
It’s amazing how quickly the time has flown by.
Roughly ten months ago, Jamey proposed. We had no idea what this year had in store for us, and we had no idea the amount of time, effort, love and care that went into the wedding planning experience. Then again, I suppose you can’t really know until you’ve been through it and are doing a lot of it by yourself (with many wonderful family members’ assistance), then suddenly it’s the week of the wedding and it feels like there’s still so much to do.
Jamey has been my rock through this whole experience, as he always is and will continue to be as we start our journey on the marriage path. I knew it the day he proposed, and I know the same firm belief will wash over me again when we stand together on Saturday.
Tonight, he orders me hot and sour soup for my sore throat, pats my head, and quietly offers reassurance that I’ll complete the hours of work I still need to knock out before the wedding festivities can begin. Despite my stress and his, and despite the feeling of nausea somewhere in my stomach, I know powering through to Saturday is going to be the best decision I’ll have made in my life.
Jamey has called me his ocean since early in our relationship. It started as a flirtatious joke, and perhaps I am the tempestuous waters from time to time. But whenever we are apart, he talks of the ocean he misses – the home, the sea, and me.
Tonight, tomorrow and every day through Saturday and beyond, wherever we are, I’m grateful to take my rock with me as he will have his ocean. It’s a journey I can’t wait to start.