Thirty-eight years ago today, the dh and I tied the knot.

Our wedding ceremony was held in our college hometown of Guelph, Ontario. My family and a few Trinidadian friends flew in a couple of days beforehand and we all ate dinner at the restaurant where the dh proposed, The Aberfoyle Mill, back then the only option for fine dining. Quaint, isn’t it? Since we’re heading to Canada tomorrow, we’re thinking of dining there again.

Most of the day is a blurred memory for me. I recall our official photographers, an English husband and wife team—Gordon and Tina, plied me with champagne as we, my bridesmaids, mom, and I dressed. We lived in a tiny apartment back then, and Gordon went door-to-door in the neighborhood, until one homeowner gave us his permission to use his backyard for the pre photos.

My BFF’s boyfriend was in charge of getting my dad to the church. Turns out his car had a hole in the floor, which had my father totally perturbed! Two of my brothers were groomsmen, and my aunt, who’s two years younger than me, was one of my four attendants. It was a lovely day, the temps were in the low 70s, and there was a brisk breeze.

We had a great time. There was a sit down dinner with the usual speeches, and my dh’s BFF was master of ceremonies—we’ll be visiting with him and his wife on our trip. The Trinis partied down the place. There is such a thing as ‘last call’ in Canada and bars aren’t allowed to serve alcohol after 13:AM. My dad bribed the bartenders, the hall stayed open, and serving drinks until 4:30 that morning. We left with the last guests.

It’s been three decades and more, and there’s no one whose company I’d prefer to keep than my dh’s. He’s my best friend, my lover, my hero, and my partner. Together we’ve raised three sons who are all financially independent (whew! Wiping the sweat from my brow on that one!), and the two of us are thoroughly enjoying our ‘empty nest.’

Life’s darned great these days.

About the only thing I’d change is having my middle son, the wayward one, living on the west coast. But, he’s a happy Googler (what Google employees call themselves) and he loves his job and location.

Have a happy hump day!

Cheers,

Jianne

P.S. I’m going to look at house exhanges for Mountainview, California.