My heart plummeted to the very bottoms of my feet. I know that sort of thing can’t physically happen, I know that. But I swear to you, that Monday, standing there with my husband at the Charlotte Douglas International Airport, it really did.
I had pulled out my passport, a nervous feeling already pinging in my chest. My booklet was a dark green, Drew’s navy. Why was mine a dark green? Why didn’t our colors match? I threw open the cover...and there she was, my eight-year-old self staring somberly up at me. Thinking back all these years later, I swear she was disappointed. “Really? You couldn’t grab the right passport? It’s your honeymoon."
I turned to Drew, my eyes wide in horror. Shock. Frustration. “Babe,” I yelped, “I grabbed the wrong passport.” And then I really did cry. It was five in the morning. We were in the Charlotte airport, a good two hours from home, and our flight to the Dominican Republic was scheduled to leave in a few hours. In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t imagine any self-respecting official letting me leave the country with a child’s passport. An expired, child’s passport, I might add.
It was a truly awful moment. All I could think about was how much we had paid for the honeymoon. It was an expensive trip: seven nights at an all-inclusive resort. I could practically see the money sliding neatly (and quickly) down the drain.
Drew stepped up to the plate marvelously. He took care of our flight, took care of me, and most importantly, didn't pass a single word of judgement about my crazy goof-up. He was awesome. My dad zoomed in from Asheville with my real passport and Drew and I were off to tropical paradise a mere twenty-four hours later.
This past year in particular has thrown us more curveballs then we've seen our entire marriage. But if I had a chance to talk to my 23-year-old self, the girl who stood nervously at the back of the church that chilly December day, I wouldn't tell her to snatch up that billowing, cream skirt and run. I'd smile and tell her she was marrying her best friend, a guy who would do anything for her. I'd tell her that walking down that aisle and saying "I do" would be one of the best decisions she's ever made. And that life with that guy was going to be magnificent.
Here's to another six, another twelve, hopefully another FIFTY years together. Happy anniversary, babe!