The perfect day.

No, today isn't the perfect day. I am forcing myself to stay on the couch as I am out of sick days and this infection seems to be taking its sweet time. I want to be better to celebrate our anniversary tomorrow. As it has been approaching, this post has been circling around in my head and heart.

Our wedding day was the perfect day. In just a few months, we planned flowers, food, invitations, clothes, and all of the other "needed" items into the place and time we needed them. It was a labor of love. Beautiful. Everyone pitched in. However, I think that- no, I know that our day would have been perfect without any of those things. We were witnesses to something bigger than ourselves. A gift we couldn't know or understand until after it was over. One that grows deeper and stronger as each day passes.

What we didn't know on our big day was that our wedding day was the only day every single person we loved would be in the same place. This had never happened before and it can never happen again. No one was missing. There were no empty chairs. Every friend and family member were there. Now I know how incredible and rare this is. For this reason alone, it was perfect. We could literally feel the love. We prayed and cried and ate and drank and hugged and kissed and danced and sang. It was pure joy.

This reminds me of what we've lost and gained in the past 7 years. Life is so very precious. On my wedding day, I had never lost someone I loved. We were so young and hadn't seen that side of life. I had never even been to a funeral. How could I have known what it would mean to me now to have these and so many other precious people in one room supporting my marriage to the man I loved. This realization is blindingly beautiful, so much so, that it hurts to look at it for too long.

I see my wedding differently now, I try to remember the little things. In this picture of the church before the ceremony, I see my grandfather. You can't tell, but the day was unbelievably hot and when I got ready at their house, my grandmother cut and hemmed his shirt sleeves into short ones. I see Eric's grandfather, the first time we met was the day before and my family was shocked to see he was almost a foot shorter than his son. I see my father in law and remember how he came out of the dressing room at the tux shop with pants 6 inches too short. Thankfully, it was an easy fix and my belt buckle, boots and ten gallon hat father was ready to wear a tux. A feat in itself. This is what I see in our pictures and I gather them up in my heart for safe keeping.

There are reasons why we don't know the future. We aren't meant to know the joy or the pain in our futures. There are times now, when I dig my hands deep into the earth of my garden, tears fall for my grandfather. I know he would be proud that the 200 years of Pennsylvania farmers have somehow rubbed off on this New England transplant and my thumb is turning just the slightest shade of green. I miss him. I miss the people we lost and the pain feels fresh and new. But we will always have our wedding day. Not only did we have these people, we were blessed to have them at our more important day as a couple and as a family. When we felt love from all sides. A blessing beyond my comprehension.

I am more thankful for my wedding day now than I could have ever been 7 years ago. This is why... at our wedding were the ones we have lost. Whose loss we feel every day. But there are the ones who are still here and saw us through those losses. In my pictures, I see Eric's cousin whose hug at my father in law's funeral soothed the ache for just a minute. The only minute of reprieve that day. I see my Dad's side of the family who out numbered my Mom's at her father's funeral, we even needed to add more chairs. Friends that laugh and cry with me no matter how long has passed since I've seen them. Ones who have prayed for me and I have prayed for them. I see my brother in law, who has grown from a teenager into a man and who looks so much like their Dad it takes my breath away. When he plays with my girls, I can see a glimmer of how their Grampy would be with the them.

Of course, then there are those additions to the family. The new, soft hands that have replaced the rough and rugged ones. Whose smooth cheeks have replaced whiskers and whose giggles shatter the silence. The ones who have breathed new life and love into our family a the right times and against all odds. A time for everything under heaven. For every season. I teach those little fingers to reach deep into the soil. To plant and to dig up. And when they ask me what is wrong after seeing my tears, I tell them the truth. I am thankful. Thankful for that season. One that can not be changed in our hearts or minds. A time that shines so bright that, even when it hurts, is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. And I am thankful for this season. A time to weep and a time to dance.