Seven Years · 4:28pm Mar 28th, 2016

Hard to believe it's already been that long, but I can't imagine life any differently. Seven years ago today, at 2:30pm, m' wife and I got married.

Looking back, she was scared of me at first. We met in the fencing club at Ohio U. Not sport fencing, historical. We were taught the techniques of Capo Ferro, Agrippa, Saviolo, George Silver, Thibault, Di Grassi, and others. Since it was historically based and not the sport, we could wear any colour we wanted to, and I chose black. I, having taken well to certain Spanish and Italian masters' styles, was rather aggressive in the salle. Betwixt the two, she was scared of me at first.

We didn't get to know each other until we were working together as student employees in Shively Dining Hall, at the dessert station. At the time Shively was the only dining hall that had hard-dip ice cream; I had earned the nickname "The Ice Cream Man" on campus. Spring term we worked together. She was timid at first, but in time opened up. Over that summer, we would chat over the phone, for hours. I felt something was starting.

The fall began m' graduating year. I asked her if she wanted to see how town looked from Radar Hill, and she said sure. Went up there, and became an item there. I can honestly say from the beginning something felt different that time, that it wasn't just gonna be another relationship, that something special was beginning. Didn't take long to notice how deeply feelings were growing on both ends. Eight months into the relationship we were discussing the M-word and what we thought (big clue for you guys and gals, when that conversation feels natural and not no pressure, it's coming). A week or two before finals week I had the thought that after graduating I might never see her again. And the question came out with no forethought, no planning, nothing. Boom, there it was, a marriage proposal. Surprised her as much as it did me. And, as you may've guessed, Murphy's Law came into the picture, because it had to be that exact moment her roomie returned. Took a bit to shoo her away. And then...mutual friend from down the hall came up just afterwards. Had to shoo her off as well. Then I got the yes.

No planning meant no ring. No ring meant I could take up to the jewelry store and find out what all she liked/wanted, and wouldn't end up giving her something she hated. Pros and cons in all things. Took her to the jewelry store, which made it easy to find out what cut, size, mounting, and metal she liked best. The place I took her to in uptown Athens had an on-site goldsmith. I got the cut, size, mounting, and metal she liked, with a twist. I ordered a ring that had it look as though the diamond was head between the beaks of two penguins passing each other in the water, since she likes penguins, and I remembered a particular scene from Independence Day.

However there was still the outstanding issue of parental approval, 'cuz I don't know if you guys've noticed, but weddings are expensive, even when you cut costs out. The reception is far away the most expensive part of a wedding, and the booze is the most expensive part of the reception. Since I didn't drink anymore, and she didn't drink in the first place, chopping out the alcohol was one of the first decisions made. But...had to get parents on board. And that meant telling them. It wasn't the right order to ask her, and then ask her dad, but since I hadn't quite planned this out...had to wing it. I remember going to talk to my now father-in-law. I remember walking up those stairs to the disbelieving stares of my now brother- and sister-in-law, and my knees feeling like Jell-O. He seemed surprised to see me up there then, too. I cut to the chase and asked the man for the honour of his daughter's hand in marriage. His face looked as though I handed him a 200-pound iron ball. He said he appreciated that I came to talk to him first and that he needed to think about it.

But things turned out well. I started working and she finished up her undergrad work, tying the knot a few months before she graduated. The bridesmaids (and groomsmen) carried swords, not bouquets. Our first dance was to this tune:

Near the end of the reception, I got to dance with her to Kiss The Girl from her favourite movie, "The Little Mermaid." Best part of that was when a number of our friends came out at the right moment in the song and started running laps around us dancing. Was a blast, but we were so tired by the end of the day.

Seven years later, here we are. We own a house now in a small town apx. an hour east of Cincinnati, and have a six-month old cooing at me from her bouncy chair. We'll be catching a dinner and a movie later, and having a fairly quiet, contented time. Contentment is certainly a word that applies. Just happy to be in her arms, and that's all I need to feel satisfied with life.

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