Four years ago today, I married the love of my life.
In my memory, the day of the wedding is a blur, with only a few moments that are crystal clear.
Standing in the back with my father and grandfather, waiting to walk down the aisle, as the music began to play.
Smiling at Patrick through the ceremony, excited and filled-to-bursting with joy.
Walking back down the aisle with my new husband, so giddy that I had to carefully keep myself from bouncing.
Bouncing up and down with joy in the bridal room in the brief moments after that, while we waited for the guests to exit, and the sparkle in Patrick's eyes.
Dancing. Walk Like an Egyptian. YMCA. Our first dance. The Daddy-Daughter dance.
The never-ending speeches. Never hand a microphone to a table full of actors.
But mostly, I remember the breakfast.
Early in the morning, before all of the joy and the chaos, I went out to breakfast with Patrick. It was a beautiful, calm time of quiet conversation before the chaos of the day set in. We talked about everything. The wedding. The idea of being "Mr. and Mrs." The honeymoon to come. But mostly, we talked about everyday things. How good the French Toast was here. The wonder of maple syrup, and then hypothesizing how people had discovered that tree sap was yummy to eat on bread products. We laughed, and held hands, and reveled in the last few moments of being two separate people.
We had several people tell us that we shouldn't do the breakfast. That it was bad luck for us to see each other before the wedding. That it wasn't 'traditional'. But honestly? That breakfast was the best thing we could have done. It gave us a moment to connect as a couple and remember why we were doing this crazy thing called marriage. And it helped us to stay focused on the reason for the chaos, rather than on the chaos itself.
That breakfast will stand out forever in my memory as one of my favorite moments ever.