11 years ago, on a hot summer’s day, I anxiously awaited at a church for the arrival of my best friend. As the clock ticked on, and seconds turned to hours…okay, minutes, I became more and more nervous. He was late. Of all the days to be late, why today? I panicked. Did we rush into this? Maybe he changed his mind. How can I do this alone? I tried to stay calm, but my thoughts were getting the best of me. I greeted family with a forced smile. I assured the photographer it would only be a few more minutes. I adjusted my veil and checked to make sure my dress was perfect yet again. My heart raced. I couldn’t breathe.
And then, a door opened. He stood at the end of the hall, dressed in his tux, and perfect. Exhale. As I walked towards him, I started to cry. He embraced me and wiped my tears, and just like that, time stopped, and my worries disappeared. I knew that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but I couldn’t think of anyone else with whom I’d travel it.
For two naïve kids, I think we’ve done pretty well.
I love you, Jonathan Stephen.