7 years ago, I was supposed to be married today. Supposed to, I said. At nearly this very moment, as a matter of fact. However that did not happen. 7 years ago today.
The plans were all made. We came in the night before to a typical, quiet North Carolina beach town dotted with mom and pop hotels and small gift shops. Peppered with local seafood restaurants and unique beach houses. Using the marvels of modern technology, I had planned it all via the computer, right down to the minister and selecting just the right wording for our vows. We had our weekend all planned out, and all reservations made, including dinner. We had been living in North Carolina for about two months, and were still enjoying the fact that it was already warm and only mid-May, and the fact that it had been constantly raining for weeks really hadn't bothered us too much. It wasn't just rain, however, it was RAIN! Growing up in Michigan, my background experiences with a downpour or "heavy rain" turned out to be a joke compared with what the south has to offer. Real RAIN! And so, after arriving and settling in our quaint hotel and triple checking the forecast for what was meant to be our wedding day -- more RAIN! -- we were able to contact the minister and change plans. We could wait one more day before we decided to work on changing venues. And by venues, I mean using a gazebo in a beachfront park somewhere.
And low and behold, after a night of discovering that crab is no longer something that agrees with me, it turns out that waiting that extra day was a perfect decision anyways.
So, according to my computer clock, I could've been married 7 and 7 minutes ago, on the beach with just a minister, her friend, and some random witness she assured me we would have no problem finding taking an early morning stroll or job. There's some foreshadowing there my friends, oh yes there surely is. More to come.
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