Twenty two years ago

Twenty-two years ago today, I woke before the sun came up. I dressed as though I were going to church; brown slacks, white shirt and tie, topped by a tweed sports coat with patches on the elbows. I brushed my teeth twice and put on extra coats of speed stick.

I went downstairs to find my brother and Greg, my other roommate, standing in the living room of the house we rented. They stood awkwardly around me in the strange, pre-dawn silence of that old house.

“Well, this is it, your life is over now.” Joked Greg.
“I filled the car with gas for you.” Said my brother. I was borrowing his car that day, since it was more dependable than my old VW bug, and I had some driving to do.

“You have everything you need?” my brother asked, almost in a parental voice.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just nervous.”
“You should be.” Greg joked again. “Seriously man, the Lord bless you.” And then he hugged me.

My brother hugged me too. And then, like in a dream, I was out the door and into my brother’s car, and driving the half-hour drive from Syracuse to Goshen, where I would pick up my Bride.

The sun was just peeking past the horizon when I arrived at Robbie’s sister’s house. All the lights were on, a stark contrast to the house I had just left. Laurie was standing with Robbie in the kitchen, both of them by the door. I saw her there through the window, her long brown hair cascading to her shoulders across that beautiful purple dress. Neither of them could see me standing at the window, but they knew I was coming, they’d seen the lights of the car as I pulled in. “Mrs. Rob Woodrum.” I said in a whisper as I watched her. I stepped to the door and rapped it lightly.

No answer. They were talking and couldn’t hear. I tapped louder. Finally, Laurie cocked her head and turned toward the door. She opened it and said in an uncomfortably loud voice “Here comes the groom!” I smiled and shifted my weight, looking hopefully at Robbie.

She grabbed her lonely suitcase, and I took it from her hand. Laurie held her in a tight embrace, whispering “My little sister” in her ear. With tears and noise, we walked to my brother’s 1979 Toyota wagon, and I put her suitcase in the back.

I don’t think we said anything. In my memory of it, we drove out of my sister-in-law’s driveway, into the sunrise toward Ohio where a Judge would perform our private ceremony. Quiet, nervous, and unsure, we started our journey together.

Twenty-two years ago today, but it seems like just a moment, and forever, all at once.
I love you Robbie. Happy Anniversary.