"I do"

I think every wedding story has things that make it special--whether it be humorous or touching or even downright disastrous.

D and I have two wedding days--or I like to say one marriage day and one wedding day.

Our choice of career doesn't give us much say over what free time we have, especially because we are both still in training.  Once we are fully qualified, things will be much less crazy, but the way things happened for us is this:

I wanted to elope.  D, however, really wanted to get married in California, where all of his family and friends are, and have a big traditional thing with cake and flowers and lunch and groomsmen and walking down the aisle and the preacher from his church, etc.   We were given one 4-day weekend for the year--this seemed like our only opportunity.   But because it was a holiday weekend, we wouldn't be able to secure a marriage license, etc in California because all of the courthouses would be closed.

SO, we decided to get the paperwork done in Texas (meaning we would literally, by law, be husband and wife), then travel out to California and hold the ceremony with all of the extras that D wanted.  Thus, our marriage was on a very hot Texas June afternoon, and our wedding was on a gorgeous northern California July afternoon.

One of my favorite wedding stories is, in fact, our marriage story.

After work on the decided day, still in our uniforms, we rushed to the courthouse.  We were told the office we needed was actually across the street, in the annex.  So we get to that building and wait in line.  They check our IDs, ask for our money, and after about 30 minutes, we have it in our hands--our marriage license.

Yay!

But, neither of us having been married before, we weren't exactly sure what this meant--does this mean that we are legally married?  No, we were told, if you want the judge to marry you then you need to schedule an appointment.

Oh.

Okay then.

So the day AFTER the decided day, we once again rush to the courthouse (annex, this time), still in our uniforms.  We talk to the Judge Eddie Howard's secretary--and realize we forgot to bring the cash!  The very kind Texan woman says there is a bank just down the street with an ATM.  Running (literally) through the scorching Texas afternoon, still in our uniforms, we arrive at the bank.  After a 5 minute search for the ATM, we have $60 cash in our hands.

And then we run back to the annex.  In the scorching Texas summer.  In our uniforms, boots and all.

We once again talk to the judge's secretary and try to hand her our $60 cash.  But she won't take it.

Apparently a marriage only costs $50.

You can't give us cash back?  No.  Okay, well then you can just keep the $10.  No, I can't do that--I'm not allowed.  (By now it's almost time for the judge's next appointment.)  Is there anybody in the office that can break a $20 for us?  Everyone checks their wallets--nope.

But wait!  Remember on our run--we passed a man with a hot dog stand!  I'll bet he'll give us change.

So once again we brave the Texas sun and run to the hot dog stand where we purchase one A&W root beer for 75 cents.

When we return to Judge Howard's secretary, she is finally satisfied that we have fulfilled all requirements and asks us to wait for the judge in his courtroom next door.

10 minutes later, with a can of A&W root beer on the table, tears in our eyes, sweat on our foreheads and my hat still in my left hand, we each said I do.

Still in our uniforms.