First let me say — Congratulations to my brother and his new bride! They got married last night — and I’ll probably {definitely} be showing off some of the pictures that I have taken!

I also have to send out a *HAPPY BIRTHDAY* shout-out to my mom!

And now on to my final day of the #WeddingWeek posts — next week my voice will be back here (as well as doing my own guest posting gig) but I hope you enjoyed my little mini-blogcation.

Today’s story of love comes from Jeanette over at Sweet Jeanette whom has become a dear friend, full of encouragement and support to me. Last September she posted this story about the day that she knew her husband loved her and I thought it would be a great story to share here. I hope you all enjoy it…

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The day I knew my husband loved me

We were married almost 30 years ago which has given us thirty years of “life stories” together. I guess, besides myself and Nascar, there was only one true passion he had and that was his cameras. Paul loved photography and used to be quite an avid photographer. He’d pour over photography magazines for hours and loved shooting pictures…of everything! At times he was inseparable from the camera. He loved that Nikon camera. One of the many times he had his camera with him (at one of my family functions), he put it down to shoot some pool and one of my cousins (today she is a teacher, but back then a little bratty LOL) picked it up and, wham! On the floor. I gasped because I knew how much he loved his camera. He ran over to it, not wanting to make a scene – being my family and all – said: “she must’ve just knocked it off” to which April said “ No, I threw it down” Oh my goodness!!! I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Did I mention that he loved that camera? That is close to an understatement! The fact that he didn’t strangle her right then and there was a good indication he either loved me or was in shock. But that’s not when I knew he loved me.

We tell each other daily that we love each other and sometimes when I’ve made an exceptional dinner, (i.e., one he loves), I’ll get a standing ovation. No, seriously, I will! When he’s away on business trips, he’ll call me multiple times a day just to share something he has seen, or to make sure I know he’s safe, or that I am safe. I’m not so good at that. He’s better.

Paul has never given me a reason not to believe he loves me. But one day, in particular was the day I knew he loved me.

We had gone to his brother’s graduation from Florida State. This was his baby brother of whom Paul was so proud of. He got a good many pictures at this event, for sure!

After the ceremony at the huge civic center in Tallahassee, we along with hundreds of other people were trying to make our mass exodus off this equally huge campus. We trudged what seem by me to be miles (ok, it was actually yards) only to find we had chosen the wrong path and the gate was locked. Several were just climbing over it, as did Paul and is brothers and sisters, but he didn’t feel I could do it so directed me to go a different route, completely within eye sight. I would go underneath what looked to be concrete grandstands, thinking back, maybe it was just the concrete building, but at any rate, there was crawl space and if you bent down you could pass easily. Easily, IF you don’t misjudge the height and just as you’re about to come out of this thing you raise up, conk your head and fall down, stalling about one hundred graduates trying to do the same thing!

I remember one of his family members saying “Jeanette fell down”. I could see Paul in the corner of my eye and what he did next is something I will never forget. He dropped his camera bag, jumped over the fence and ran to me. Did you get the part where I said he “DROPPED HIS CAMERA BAG”?!? He didn’t even say “here, would you hold this for me”. No. When he got to me, (there were still people stalled because I fell at an angle I couldn’t pull my legs up under me to get up) he helped me up, asked over and over if I was ok. I think I would’ve been tempted to say “you can’t even crawl?!?” LOL. But I also saw the look of, first concern, then of love as he gently helped me up and held me. That’s when I knew he loved me. When I realized that “I” was his prized possession.

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I have to admit… I’m living a rough life right about the time you may be reading this. Today is a pre-wedding spa day that I am surely totally enjoying. The wedding is tomorrow and I’m ridiculously excited about it.

Anyway — I’m sure that you are here to read another wonderful story from one of my great guest bloggers! Today is Wendy from the Local Cook. I’ve tweeted with Wendy for MONTHS (not knowing that she was a local blogger as well!) and then got to meet her at Gleek Retreat in May. She is a great friend and I’m so happy to share her story of finding love…

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A Match Made in Heaven

My husband likes to joke that we almost never met. See, I was tired of dating. After my divorce, I decided to give Match.com a try. I had never dated as an adult (my first husband was my high school sweetheart). I read a couple of books on dating and, armed with a list of non-negotiables and a promise to myself “no fixer-uppers,” I embarked on a whirlwind of dates.

There was Herb, the train engineer who wanted to marry me after three dates. He was promptly kicked to the curb. Hence he became known as Herb Who Was Kicked to the Curb. Then there was Scalper Dan, the guy who bought and sold tickets online (he didn’t like his nickname for some reason). Other One-Date Wonders included Redneck Tom (the one with three teenage daughters), Boring John (I ran out of discussion questions 15 minutes into the date), Pervert Ryan (I won’t go into detail), and Dr. Eric (the psychologist who insisted on being called Dr., took me to an Imax 3D film on the human body, and kept asking me how I felt about this or that).

I was actually semi-serious with Gay Tom. To this day I don’t know if he was really in the closet. At first I thought he was just really respectful. Then one day he mentioned that his favorite show was the Gilmore Girls.

So as you can imagine, despite my now-husband having a very cute and provocative profile, I was just about ready to give up on dating. I was waiting around after work and shared with my co-worker that I was about to stand him up. I was tired of making conversation with dimwits. She told me “hey, go and at least get a free dinner out of it.” I agreed, called him to tell him I was late because “I was held up at work,” and arrived half an hour late to our first date.

It was just like the movies. We totally connected. We talked for hours. I had a date scheduled for the next morning with another guy but cancelled all the others. So did he. His friends couldn’t believe he had finally met someone who didn’t get a nickname. (He wasn’t as creative; his dates were Jenny Grandville, Debra Kalamazoo, etc.). I was just Wendy.

Six months later he proposed. Nine months after that we were married. We’ve been in love ever since. Our premarital counseling class it was kind of funny—the couples who met online scored the highest on the compatibility tests. After four years of bliss, part of me wonders if I’m so happy because my first husband was so bad. Troy likes to joke that the bar was set so low that of course he seems perfect. I just think we’re a perfect match.

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