There’s a big box of photographs in our house, a clear tub that when I’m feeling nostaligic — particularly about my college years — I like to dig through. With Nick gone over the weekend, the quietness of an empty house led me to cleaning, which led to opening the closet, which led to finding that clear tub (because seriously, who doesn’t stop everything to procrastinate from cleaning when a box ‘o memories are at hand?).
Sifting through all the notes and stationary and postcards and pictures, I found this photograph near the bottom. The first photo taken of the two of us. Nick was 20 and I was 19. We’d been on a date and then there was this party and somewhere between those two events, I knew in the recesses of my brain I’d found the guy whose side I never wanted to leave.
After I got this photo developed (remember when we used to do that?), I framed it and put it on the dresser in my dorm room. Then I took it home with me at Christmas, showed it to my mom and said, “What do you think?”. To which she took it, examined it closely and said, “Oh my …”
All these years later it’s still my favorite snapshot of the two of us. Namely because I can’t come across it without a flood of precious memories that remind me of the butterflies that hung around inside my stomach when we first started dating.
8 years together, 3 blissfully married (as of today). And 1 photograph that will always remind me — always, always, always — of how much I love this man.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY NICK! I love you and I’ll shout it from the blogsphere so you always know it 
(PS – Does anyone else HATE how they have a whole decade’s worth of photos with a date stamp on the front? Blechy!)
by Gail Werner
show hide 15 comments
link to this post email a friend