I haven’t wanted to fill my blog up with wedding nonsense. Mostly because, before the wedding, it was occupying way too much of my consciousness, awake and asleep. There are some memories, of course, that I’d rather not lose. Memories that aren’t necessarily captured on film.

We have a border collie, Dexter. He gets adorably excited when Fronzel and I come home, and he does these huuuuuge jumps because he’s so thrilled to see us. As a kind of private joke between us, Fronzel started to do little jumps when we saw each other, especially if we’d been apart a while, for example when I picked him up from the airport after a long work trip. I love this little thing between us.

The weeks before the wedding were especially stressful. I had a lot of anxiety, and it basically just reached a crescendo on the day of the wedding. I had alot of anxiety about walking into a crowd full of people, of doing something so personally meaningful in front of a crowd (albeit of very close, loving friends and family).

The wedding was at a small historic house we rented; the ceremony on the brick patio out back. To walk up the “aisle,” I had to walk around the right side of the house, turn left and walk behind some guests, and turn right to head up to the “altar.” An eternity happened in the few moments I stood, frozen, out of sight, on the side of the house, when it was time for me to walk in and there was nothing to do but walk. Fronzel knows me really well, and he knew that at that moment, I was having a series of small strokes, heart attacks, and religious epiphanies, trying to make myself do it: Walk. Around. The. Corner.

Somehow I gathered my wits, somehow I walked around the corner, turned. The harpist’s music, which I was later told was quite lovely, fell on my deaf ears. I was petrified, I could feel all one hundred and fifty eyes on me. I walked. And I willed every ounce of my being not to trip on my dress or an uneven brick seam. I walked along behind the crowd, which even in my three-inch heels blocked my view of the altar. I reached the center aisle, and turned to continue. I looked up, wanting to lock eyes with Fronzel, wanting something to bring me back to the ground.

Fronzel saw me looking at him, and he jumped.

Just a little jump, something probably no one but me noticed, because all one hundred and fifty eyes were planted on me. But I knew that jump meant, “I am so excited to see you!” I knew he was offering me some levity, something to break the tension inside of myself. I knew it was just for me. It was one million times better than any soap-opera tears. It nearly broke my heart. I got the best one out there.