The Love of My Life

Eight years and counting. Let's go back 8 years ago in my personal history. It was a drizzly Friday. The temperature was seasonably warm. I woke up at my friend's house in a rural (go figure) part of North East Lambton County knowing that the upcoming day was going to be a total blur. I quickly showered, shaved, put on my tux avec long tails, and ordered a bunch of roses to be delivered to a house in Alvinston, where another flurry of activity was occurring. All this time I was hoping the rain would end, and that the weather would turn out as it should for occasions such as this. My groomsmen had all appeared and were busily preparing. Pictures were at 3:00 pm in Watford. I needed the day to clear up, just as a teenager wants the dreaded blemishes to clear up before the big dance. Bryan, one of my groomsmen and the MC of the evening, volunteered to drive us in his little BMW. We arrived at the site of our pictures, and now the waiting game. When would I get to see my very-soon-to-be bride? It didn't take long for a limosine to pull up. It seemed close to this time that the sun peeked out of the sky as if to say "I was just waiting for the right time." Pictures went well and without a hitch - because "they do the hitchin' at the church."

The groomsmen and I hopped back into Bryan's little BMW, and drove to get some gas. The bride to be and her band of merry women took a ride in the limosine. We got to the church around 4:30. We met the priest, exchanged the envelope of money, went over the plans, and I paced, peeked, and profusely sweated for a short time. I looked out at the gathering families and friends. It was good to see so many come from distances afar and near. Some even travelled internationally (my former roomies and their girlfriends-to-be-wives). Sidenote: I was just in Michigan, packing my room up to move back to the homeland on the 5th of May, as that's when my last exam was to finish out my Bachelor of Science at Central Michigan University. All I had to do was pack up my beloved black beauty of a truck, race to the border, and back to my parent's house. Now that's close.

The bridesmaids strolled in, followed by the Maid of Honour. My wife's father was at the back of the church ready to bring her down the aisle. Along the way was her stepfather, who also walked with them. My heart races, my face beamed, and I was happy. While I do remember some of the rest of the day, I must admit that the past 8 years have raced by like the Indianapolis 500, while at other times have been slower than slugs trying to traverse an acre. As much as a Hallmark (or Dollar Store) card this may sound like, we've had sad times, bad times, and some mystically wonderful times (like when our daughters were born) While our marriage is 7 years longer than the average Hollywood marriage, okay maybe 5, but we're still not masters. We aren't perfect, we won't be perfect, and that's perfectly okay.
This picture is an "unofficial" photo taken at the church - Behind us are a couple of locals who stopped by and gave us some lovely pumpkins as wedding presents. It must be some sort of local good luck gesture.


I dedicate this wonderful day to my beautiful wife. Happy Eighth Anniversary Chrystal Anne Marie Bressette! I love you.


Bob