I love it when a plan comes together

Those were the words that our officiant said to me moments before I walked out to commit my love and my life to Abby.

I easily count my wedding day one of my best days ever, only recently surpassed by the day my son was born. I don't recall a single regret about the wedding. Grinning stupidly as my bride walked to the altar, threatening storm clouds that never broke but made for an amazing sunset, perfect weather, perfect food, perfect company, driving away from the festivities in the old convertible Mercury Capri, high on the feeling of celebration and new beginnings.

The following day was definitely a lesser day. That's when the realization of what we were doing hit; leaving behind everything that we had grown up with, friends, family, home, to strike out on our own and make our own life, sink or swim. It was a difficult first night of driving east in the moving truck with that weight and the few possessions that were in the back. Many tears were shed, but we survived.

More than survived, actually. It's hard to believe that Abby and I have been married for seven years now. Only when I pause and think about it does it seem like a significant amount of time. The older we get, the longer our frame of reference gets, and a single year that used to seem like an eternity (remember waiting for summer vacations?) zips past. Seven years on our own, having our own adventures and conquering tribulations along the way.

For seven years, Abby's been my best friend, my co-conspirator, my support, and my confidant in all things.