Today is our tenth wedding anniversary.
A long-distance relationship spanning four years and several states, from Oregon to Iowa, then Omaha to Des Moines – and at one point another continent when Luke was signed to a record label in England – we took our time taking the step. Then, in what would become typical Pettipoole fashion, in a flurry Luke proposed on a weekend home before leaving to resume his tour the following day. We were married less than two months later.
Let it be known I am a planner at heart and thrive on obsessing over details, but would also throw that all in the trash in favor of getting swept up in an adventure!
It was a small wedding, less than a hundred guests (perfect for these two introverts), on a humid Sunday evening in July. And in a pre-Pinterest world it was completely DIY thanks to so many thoughtful friends and family who homemade delicious confections for the dessert table, arranged bouquets from grocery-store flowers, and styled quirky table centerpieces using all the kitschy candleholders, vases, and other wares I'd been thrifting for months. I found my dress at a thrift store and, after being turned away from a local tailor, decided to tackle the semi-major reconstruction myself (including making an entirely new dress to go underneath the lace overlay!).
I had the best intentions of doing something special with the photos, but then suddenly it was ten years later and all I had to show for it was a stack of cheap 4x6s printed at a Target kiosk. Direct proof that ten years was a long time ago. More proof, I have no eyebrows.
Yesterday, nostalgic about our upcoming big day, I felt compelled to make some public gesture and document the event on the blog, only to realize I had no idea where the originals were. I searched computers – falling down the abyss that is 10 year-old emails – and frantically tore the house apart in search of that ancient technological relic, a disc of photos from our photographer.
Suddenly those photos I’d hitherto given almost no thought seemed like my most valuable possession... and I’d lost them. After a few tears and a Hail Mary Midnight Email to our photographer I resigned that the poor quality 4x6 prints were it.
I woke up the morning of our anniversary a little deflated, but determined to do whatever I could to preserve the photos I did have. Seriously, the fact that I've kept that little red cardboard envelope of prints for this long is a bit unbelievable. I set up the tripod and literally started taking photos of the photos. Oh the grain! Determined, I got so far as editing these pictures of pictures and then uploading them into this blog post. What was I thinking?!
But unbeknownst to me, at 9pm, while I sat in bed absently scrolling Instagram after a full day of obsessing, Luke was downstairs scrounging up his stash of hadn't-been-used-in-ages-hard-drives, going to work unburying years of forgotten archives. Nestled deep between old demos and other ancient band artifacts, he found it, a perfectly preserved file of our wedding photos!
And this is a metaphor of our relationship. Luke always comes through.
Happy anniversary, my Love.
* Photos by Anastasia Williams