A Lot Can Happen In Three Days

Did I buy this sweatshirt specifically for a Good Friday Instagram post? Yes.

Am I a silly, silly woman? Also yes.

But that’s not the point. The point is a lot can happen in three days. 

Jeremy proposed to me on Good Friday, 2004. He flew me to New York because I said it was the place I always wanted to go (I blame Friends) and took me to see Chicago on Broadway because I said it was the play I’d always wanted to see (I blame the movie), but before all that, he took me for a walk in Central Park and presented me with a one karat solitaire, just like the one I said I always wanted.

Jeremy was the first man I’d ever dated. Before him, I had only ever dated boys. I remember when we started going out, I asked him why he still called me everyday. Wasn’t he going to play it cool for a little while? He said he didn’t play. If he liked me, he liked me, and wouldn’t pretend he didn’t. If he liked me he was going to call everyday. And that was that. This seemed like how it should go, but it rarely did.

He was forthright about his intentions. Said he dated someone only until he knew he wasn’t going to marry them. If that time came, he broke up with them. Even if he still kinda liked them. He didn’t think it was wise to date someone you knew you wouldn’t end up with because to him, it just seemed like everyone was wasting their time.

He proposed to me three months after we started dating. People always gasp when they hear that. But he knew. I knew too. 

To make things crystal, and so you’ll understand, Jeremy was twenty seven years old and owned his own successful business. He was the worship director at our church. He was wise, intelligent, fun, witty, and had just been nominated (and called by a producer) to be on The Bachelor as the next bachelor, back when it wasn’t such a shameful or laughable thing (although Jeremy will tell you it’s always been a shameful and laughable thing. Spoiler alert: he declined.) I, on the other hand, was a single mom in school who worked at a liquor store.

Cuz darling I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream.

When he proposed I was like “Are you sure???”

Not really, but when our friend who was with us mentioned that since he was an attorney, he could marry people, and then jokingly asked if we’d like to tie the knot instead of wait, I was like YES! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YES! LET’S GET THE SHOW ON THE ROAD ALREADY. LET’S SEAL THIS DEAL. And Jeremy seemed to really love the idea.

It sounds rash—I know. But knowing us now it makes perfect sense. Jeremy and I jump into everything with two feet.

I wanted a big wedding though, with a white dress and family and the whole shebang. So we decided that’s exactly what I’d have. We’d just also get married in New York first. 

We took a cab to China Town and bought him a cheap band. My friend Luanne bundled together six red roses from my engagement bouquet and tied it with string. We went to brunch at Tavern On The Green, and then after, on Easter Sunday, we walked over to the place where we’d gotten engaged—to the bridge that faces The Plaza in Central Park—and our friend Charles married us. 

We both wore black pea coats and my hair was in a ponytail.

It was absolutely perfect.

On Friday morning, I flew out of Denver a single woman, unsure what the rest of my life would look like, and by Sunday, I had gotten engaged and then married to the best man I had ever met.

A lot can happen in three days.

On Easter, we celebrate the completion of the greatest act of love ever committed. 

It is a fine day for an anniversary too.