Sunday, May 12, 2013

Happy Anniversary, Bevie!

Though it's Mother's Day, it's something more important in my life. Without May 12th, I wouldn't be a mother.
29 years ago, I limped down the aisle on my daddy's arm to greet this tall, handsome man with whom I'd share my life with. I'd broken a small bone in my right foot, and though you can't tell in this photo, by the time I took these heels off, it was swollen all over the sides. But I wasn't about to be in a cast. The dress was too long and the cost to hem it pricey, and since I had to buy shoes anyway, I bought higher heels than I'd ever worn before or since. No reason not to, after all. In fact I needed all the height I could get. The photographer thought so, too. She thought it clever to actually show how dissimilar we are in height, which made us chuckle, nose to nose, eye to eye.

I've said all my married life that I have to take advantage of every step, because it's the only time I have a hope of seeing eye to eye with Beve.  And, oddly, the neck problems I have are the direct result of being 14 inches shorter than my Beve, of spending too much time staring up at him. When the doctor who did a steroid injection Friday (from my collar bone to my spine--imagine that needle) heard that Beve's 6'7", and I'm 5'5", he said, "Yep, that'll do it." But...

It's worth it. I wouldn't change a thing about my Beve. He's the perfect height for me. The best gift--after God Himself--I've ever received.

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