March 7th is a good day for me. In 1981, I watched a beautiful woman walk down the aisle, and she was walking toward me. I barely noticed her off-white dress because my knees were trembling. When the pastor said, “I pronounce you husband and wife,” I forgot to kiss the bride until he leaned forward and reminded me. The two of us kissed and retreated down the aisle as a married couple.

The fifty or so guests lined up to congratulate us, smiling with eyes full of concern. The record standing against us was bleak. I think I read somewhere that since that day, over 99% of couples in our circumstances end up divorced. We were swimming against the flow, and we knew it, but we did not understand what the choice we made that day would do to our lives.

I was eighteen (barely), and my bride was sixteen. She was five months along in a pregnancy that we had not planned. When we decided to face the truth of what we had been doing and tell our parents, the reaction was less than stellar, as expected. We were children playing adult games, thinking that there would not be consequences, just like kids do.

March 7th changed my life. It was a Saturday, and we stayed the night at a Hilton. We returned on Sunday and opened our wedding gifts, then moved into my bedroom under my parents' roof. On Monday, we went back to school (we attended different high schools). The only thing noticeably different was the simple bands on our fingers and a peculiar smile on our faces.

To say that this day changed my life would be the biggest understatement of my life. I was a child married to a child. What a crazy ride it was!

Three kids in the first six years, while I was trying to figure out who I was. Connie knew exactly who she was because she was born to be a mother and excelled in the role. She grew up fast as I muddled through what it meant to be a husband, let alone a man.

It only took us about forty years to figure “us” out, which was about a dozen years after our nest cleared out. Each stage of life presents unique challenges. Married life was the most difficult thing and the most rewarding thing at the same time.

Now that she has passed away nearly 16 months ago, I choose to remember what a blessing I had been given, even in a struggle. Forty-five years ago, March 7th was a good day; now it is a good but sad day.

‍