20 years ago today we were preparing for our wedding on my grandmother’s front lawn. All that absolutely needed to happen was retrieving the final “permission” form from the town clerk’s office the next town over, a 15 minute drive over scenic-ly snowy roads. Friends and family had already gathered, so there was no last-minute traveler arrival to anticipate. Fresh snow had fallen in the night, lending even more beauty to the freezing cold Vermont morning.

What follows is part conjecture, part memory.

The cold temperatures had frozen the propane tank that lay along our route, causing it to explode or leak or something. (this is the conjecture part) Houses were evacuated, the road closed. Police guarded the space, not trusting even roadblocks to keep people off.

Our small car was not up to a trek over the mountain, the only other way to get around to town.

My aunt and uncle, the only people in the crowd with a 4-wheel drive, graciously volunteered to take us – they were not about to let us take the car, smart people.

An hour and a half later, we arrived at the clerk’s office, picked up the paperwork, and hopped back into the car for the nail-biting slide/drive back.

Fourteen witnesses (and apparently an innocent bystander, attracted by the spectacle of fancy coats and Christmas-collared dogs on a front lawn) shared in our vow exchange, and we escaped into the warmth of my grandmother’s house for a gathering that included some of the propane refugees.

Our life together started with an adventure, and it’s been one after the other. I wonder what the next 20 years will bring!

Happy anniversary, Jeremy. May our lives be filled with waves and water, love and laughter. I love you!