Some Pictures are Worth 3,000 Words…

“This Day I Will Marry My Best Friend:  The One I Laugh With.  Live For.  Love.” 

…Those were the words printed on our wedding invitations to describe exactly what would take place twenty-nine-years ago today.  They were true.  

As cliché as it sounds, in so many ways, I remember that day as clearly as I remember yesterday.  Yet in other ways, when looking back over the life Tommy and I have lived together… the years that have passed… it feels like it happened a lifetime ago.

I love that, all these years later, I still remember ours as one of the most beautiful weddings… ever.

My parents sacrificed so much to give us that day. 

I’d long dreamed of a Christmastime wedding.  More importantly, I’d long dreamed of marrying Tommy.  By our wedding day, we’d dated for seven years, including two with him away at college and me still in high school.  We got engaged on Christmas Eve 1993.  To afford my engagement ring while still in college, he’d coached a season of high school football and sold a gun.  By Christmas Day 1993, we’d set a date not quite one year away:  December 17, 1994.   

When I look back now, it’s just crazy how little we actually had figured out.  All we really knew was that we were ready to make a real life together.  So, at ages twenty-four and twenty-two, we jumped right in!   The only reason we weren’t terrified is that we didn’t yet know enough to be.  And thank God.  Because knowing now where it’s brought us… who it’s made us together… I wouldn’t want to risk changing a thing.

Compared to most couples today… and in fact, compared to plenty of couples then… We started out with so little. 

We both had jobs, but not necessarily ones that prepared us for real-life bills.

We did at least have a plan about where we would live.  Tommy’s grandparents owned a few rental properties, including one it seemed would suit us perfectly:  A cute little double-wide trailer.  Their tenant was scheduled to move out a couple of months before our wedding.  We even got to walk through the place and plan what we would do with it.  We were so excited to make it “ours.”    

But then, toward the end of October, the tenant’s plans changed.  He didn’t need to move after all.  He was a good person and dependable renter.  Tommy’s grandparents were honorable people.  They wouldn’t have dreamed of forcing him out.  Understandable?  Of course.  But, at that juncture, a curveball for which we were not prepared?  Absolutely. 

But they did have this “other place” … They said it needed some work.  But it was vacant… Maybe it could work in a pinch.  Temporarily…

That thing I just said about how much we didn’t know?  That included anything about houses!  In hindsight, the “other place” could probably have legitimately qualified for condemnation.  But, somehow, all we saw was “potential”:  A place that could be ours.  So, on Halloween weekend – less than two months before our rapidly approaching wedding date - we charged headlong into that, too.   

The porch roof was literally falling in.  So, using the money we’d been planning to spend on a honeymoon cruise, we started there.  Over the next week, we tore out what had passed for a kitchen, along with the only bathroom, which, to put it kindly was completely beyond salvation… Then, in one evening, we gutted every single first story wall.   (Our first gas bill revealed the lack of wisdom in that!  No insulation… in November… in Pennsylvania…)  Things did look better just plain gone than they had when we’d found them:  But now, we had to figure out how to put it all back together again…

But we were happy.  Excited.  And encouraged by every little step we made.

…Our beautiful wedding day finally came.  And, despite almost a year of careful planning, not without incident. 

Things had seemed under control up until the day before, when we encountered some obvious problems with the fit of the rented tuxedos, and two bridesmaids’ gowns.  Some stressful last-minute scrambling worked all that out… well enough… by the time we got to rehearsal that evening. 

Afterwards, we enjoyed a beautiful rehearsal dinner with our family and friends.  At the end of the evening, I remember feeling like we’d finally made it.  The day we’d been dreaming of was tomorrow.  All I had left to do was set out the things I’d need in the morning, then get a good night’s sleep.    

…Remember how much Tommy had sacrificed to afford my engagement ring?  Well, when the time came to choose a wedding ring for him, I was thinking of that.  At the time, he worked as a roughneck on a drilling rig.  Since it was dangerous to even wear a ring at work, he insisted he didn’t need anything fancy.  Just a simple gold band.  But that didn’t seem right to me.  He’d given me such a beautiful ring… 

So, I went to a mall jewelry store that made it very easy to walk in, see a ring I liked (one gleaming with diamonds all along the top), sign my name, and walk out with that ring.  …AND a high-interest bill headed my way in the mail each month for the whole foreseeable future… I probably knew that part was a bad idea, but I did it anyway.  We’d waited so long for this, and it was finally here.  I wanted to do it “right,” and a simple gold band didn’t feel “right.”

…That important ring was high on the list of things I needed to set out on wedding eve.  But there in my childhood bedroom, a problem soon emerged:  I couldn’t seem to find it.  It had been a hectic day.  Maybe I just didn’t remember moving it…  I kept looking, still didn’t find it, and panic set in.  My brother was asleep in the next room.  I woke him.  He’d help me.  …A little while later, we woke our parents. They’d help us…   

The morning of my wedding found my dad outside sifting through ashes in the burn barrel.  Had it been accidentally thrown away!?  He found nothing.  My mom called the caterer.  We’d dropped off a box of decorations that had also been in my bedroom.  Had the ring had fallen into it?  If so, nobody admitted it.  Finally, I even called Tommy’s mom to make sure that, somehow, he hadn’t ended up with it.  He hadn’t.    

By my early-morning wedding-day hair appointment, I’d barely slept and still had no ring.  Upon hearing this drama, my hairdresser said not to worry.  He could help.  He had a friend who owned a jewelry store.  It was early.  She wasn’t open yet.  But she’d do him a favor and meet me there.  I could at least get a ring to get us through the day - until we found the real one.  …An hour later, wearing sweats and a veil, I marched into a jewelry store and picked out a simple gold band.  At that point I couldn’t remember his size.  So, I guessed.

...Our ceremony was more beautiful than I’d ever dreamed.  Full of love and meaning.  The December day had started out gray, but just as we said our vows, the sun came out.  It streamed through the stained-glass windows in a way that guests would later say made every bead and sequin on my long train gleam. 

By the time we exchanged rings, somehow, just about everyone had heard about that dilemma.  I could literally feel the crowd lean in for a closer look as I slid the ring onto Tommy’s finger… up to his knuckle.  Because that’s all the further it would fit.  (I’d later learn that when I’d guessed at his ring size, I’d actually chosen his shoe size…) He discreetly transferred his new ring to the only finger it did fit – his pinky – and the ceremony went on.

You’ve seen those wedding photos that feature a couple’s hands wearing their special new rings? In ours, the groom’s is a pinky ring.

Actually, that turned out to matter a whole lot less than we thought it would. 

Because remember that real life we’d jumped into with no real plan?  That house we’d torn into?  At the end of that one beautiful day – it was all still there.  To make our house “livable,” we’d roughed in a kitchen and bathroom.  (Never mind that going downstairs in the middle of the night to visit that bathroom required shoes - because everything else was still that demolished!)  We had a hand-me-down bedroom suite and dining table.  No living room furniture.  My college TV.  (No cable.)  Anything new we had - like dishes, blankets, and towels - we’d received as wedding gifts.  

And we truly didn’t see what we didn’t have.  We were just really happy with what we did have. 

Back then, we didn’t even know how much we were really trusting to God.  Yet He was kind enough to look after us, every step of the way, anyway. 

I don’t think either of us will ever forget the way we started out.  At least I hope not.  Because memories of that kind of beginning have made us so much more appreciative of everything good that’s happened in our life together since then. And a lot of good has happened.  We often say that if we’d been somehow able to see a snapshot of our future… what life would look like today… we never would have believed it. 

In fact, it’s exactly that thought that recently led to something else really good happening…   

While working on this year’s Christmas card and looking at photos of our all-grown-up family, I once again couldn’t help thinking about how far we’ve come.  And with another anniversary approaching, that led me to think back on our wedding. 

I have such beautiful memories from that time, but actually, memories are all we’ve had. 

As hard as it is to imagine today, in a world where we have instantaneous photos of everything, aside from snapshots taken by guests, we’ve never had wedding pictures.     

We did have a photographer that beautiful day, and he did an outstanding job.  I know this because we got to see proofs just a few days later.  In quite a technological advancement back then, he’d somehow transferred them to VHS cassette, thus eliminating the time it would have taken to process film - even for proofs.  They were stunning!  We excitedly started a list of which ones to order…

But then, real life happened.  Fast.  And it kept on happening.  Putting that house back together kept taking every bit of money we had, and then some.  By our first anniversary, we had a beautiful baby girl.  From the very start, priorities weren’t difficult to choose:  The things that mattered really mattered… 

There were so many times when we were barely making it.  So optional things that cost a lot of money, for instance wedding photos, suddenly mattered much less.  We did intend to get them… but good intentions often have a way of fading into the background of real life.  

But now, all these years later, here I was:  Thinking of them again.  For so many reasons, it would mean even more to have them now than it would have back then. 

If I’ve learned anything in twenty-nine-years, it’s that you just never know… So, I had a thought:  What if our photographer was still in business?  What if he’d somehow kept our photos all these years?  What did I have to lose by trying to find out?

I’ve never forgotten his name:  Torrey Witt.  I typed it into my search engine.  Sure enough, there was a Facebook profile.  I think I held my breath as I typed out a message explaining who I was and what I wanted to ask him.  I made it clear that I understood it was a long shot, but that I had to try.  I told him that with our anniversary approaching, getting even one wedding photo would make a wonderful surprise for my husband. 

Truthfully, I expected him to ignore me.  He wouldn’t remember me from twenty-nine-years ago, and if he did – he’d remember a bride who’d totally flaked on him.  But then, just a few minutes later, I got a reply: “Let me check.” 

He hadn’t automatically laughed and said no!  This felt like hope! 

In the coming days, one thing led to another.  He wasn’t promising anything, but he also wasn’t saying no.  Because it was actual film (digital cameras weren’t a thing in 1994) he’d have to look back through negatives.  (I’d kind of forgotten all about those!)  He asked for any unique details that might stand out to him should he find the correct set.  I gave him the best clues I could think of and continued to hope for the best, but remain prepared to hit a brick wall. 

All the while I wondered:  Why would he go to even this much trouble for me?  Why did he trust that this time, I’d really follow through?  Yet here he was… not only willing to keep trying, but actually treating me kindly.  He didn’t make me feel like we’d done anything stupid or wrong all those years ago, but instead assured me that this was more common than I’d probably expect.  “Things besides pictures take priority…” he said.  He did, however, good naturedly concede that getting a call twenty-nine-years later is significantly less common. 

…At home, I kept this a secret.  If could get our wedding pictures for a 29th anniversary surprise?  How special would that be?

With each passing day, I expected Torrey to call and say he’d checked everywhere, but that twenty-nine-years was just too long ago.  (I often can’t find things I had twenty-nine days ago!)  Therefore, imagine how stunned and excited I felt when, one morning, my phone lit with a text and an image…  Tommy and his parents: He and his dad in tuxedos; his mom in a red suit.  The very first photos taken on our wedding day. 

Twenty-nine-years later, he’d found them!    

It feels fair to say that, by now, this was becoming a special mission for Torrey, too.  He’d found the film in an unmarked canister that had remained unopened… the rolls never touched by human hands… since he’d sealed it on our wedding day.  In fact, he said that today, the canister itself is something of a collectible artifact! 

I didn’t even care about how old this means we are.  This was exciting! 

But since we - and that film - are old, the coolest thing about all this quickly also became the most challenging:  What does one, even a professional, do with film that old, now?  He not only needed to find a lab that could process it, but also one he trusted.  It had survived for twenty-nine years. Neither of us wanted to lose it now! 

Several of his calls reached individuals who hadn’t even been born yet when this film was shot.  They definitely couldn’t help us.  But finally, he found someone it seemed could…

We agreed to take the next step and see what happened.  “We’ve had no pictures for twenty-nine-years,” I said, “Anything we can get now will be 1,000% better than that.” 

…About a week later, we went from having zero wedding photos, to all 193 he’d shot that day!  He’d negotiated with the lab to just go ahead and print them all… for exactly the amount of the contract I’d signed, and then bailed on, in 1994. 

He didn’t have to give me the time of day.  He didn’t have to trust me.  He didn’t have to care.  He didn’t have to give so generously.  But he did all of those things. 

And as a result, today we not only have the most memorable anniversary gift ever, but also an heirloom… one we almost never had… to pass on to our kids. 

In attempting to express my gratitude to Torrey, I told him that what he did for us inspires me to be a little more trusting… a little kinder… a little more generous. 

I enjoyed a nice visit with him when I picked up our photos.  Even though we left him hanging twenty-nine years ago, he really did seem to believe our priorities had been right.  I told him I’d already begun writing this incredible story, and how I hoped that it might somehow inspire or encourage someone else. 

Maybe just by hearing that there really are still good, kind, and trusting people in this world.  Or maybe, by the reminder that, no matter how unlikely something seems – you never know until you try.  Or maybe… just by learning our whole story.  The one behind what people might see today. 

I’m so thankful for our story… God was so kind to give us a life that forced us to prioritize things exactly the way we did.  Considering all the dumb things we did, that was one of the very best things He could have made sure we did right.

If the 3,000 words I’ve used to tell this story can deliver one message, I hope it’s this: 

To build something that lasts, focus on what really matters first.  Everything that comes after will mean so much more. 

…And maybe even work out in ways better than you ever dared to hope or imagine. 

…That day I married my best friend.  The one I (still) laugh with.  Live for (God’s plan alongside).  Love. 

PS:  Twenty-nine years later?  That house is still our home.  And we never did find that ring…  The kind jeweler let us exchange the pinky ring for one that fit properly.  …And that simple gold band is still his wedding ring.