Nineteen Years; One Regret [UPDATED with Photos]

It's a gorgeous autumn day in the south just like it was nineteen years ago today when I married my Officer and Gentleman in a military wedding at the Main Post Chapel at Fort Benning, Georgia. Ten fellow officers served as the Gentlemen of the Saber Arch. Our friend, George, then a first lieutenant and now a retiree, officially welcomed me to the Infantry as he ceremoniously swatted my bottom with his saber. The tradition is to say, "Welcome to the Army, Mrs. X." At that time, I outranked him and told him that I was already welcomed into the Army as my leave and earnings statements regularly proved. I also cautioned him that as a recent graduate of the U.S. Army Airborne School, I was also welcomed there as my Basic Parachutist's Badge proved. I warned him that, mess dress uniform or no, I would have no hesitation dropping him for push-ups if he violated my bridezilla edict.

He surprised me by saying, "Welcome to the Infantry, Mrs. Adams." There's a picture somewhere in the album of me laughing in surprise

and Dave smiling at me with a knowing look.

Duplicate that picture innumerable times over nineteen years. I'm often surprised and he's often smiling at my ability to be surprised.

I wouldn't change anything, really, about our married life together. There have been many challenges, some of which have been documented on this little blog, and many others that pre-dated blogging. And there are some which remain known unto us alone. Every marriage is a mystery, known only to its members.

I believe the one regret I have is in my faults--what I've done and what I've failed to do--in being more holy, more loving, and more loveable to the best man I've ever known. The only man who ever walked the earth who surpasses my man would be good St. Joseph. I have the extreme privilege of being married to a fun, funny, content & holy man who is a wonderful provider, father, beloved and friend. I was so happy on our wedding day that no tears fell from my eyes; I took it as a pre-figurement of Paradise. And every day since, I've had the privilege of living out what happily-ever-after means.

UPDATE: I dug and found the photos. My brother, a groomsman, took them back when he was a photojournalist and before he began his wedding photography work. All of them are copyright Paul F. Gero, all rights reserved.

Thanks go to Dave for scanning them. Natch.