To have and to hold.

I don't ever remember being fond of going to weddings when I was young.

It was a drag to get dolled up, wear uncomforatble patent leather shoes, and have my mom fix my permed hair.

Oh, and the embarrasment to watch my parents dance, mortifying!

I would drink as much cola and eat as much cake as possible, my poor tummy.

I spent most of the night starring out the windows of the Stockyard Exchange Building Ballroom wishing to be anywhere but there.

Last night, when I took the rare opprotunity to rest my feet, all I felt was sweet joy.

Going to all those receptions as a child with my family are some of the best memories I have.

I didn't like being dressed up, but I did quietly enjoy being a little girl for a night, tennis shoes and toy guns left behind at home.

My parents weren't the best dancers by anymeans. When they danced, they were the happiest I can ever remember. They did a mean polka, and watch out for the Flying Dutchman!

Beer eventually replaced cola and cake eventually, nah, cake is still awesome!

I spent most of last night laughing and loving my friends, old and brand new, who surrounded me.

It was just once I was moved to tears I made sure no one saw, dancing SHOUT! without the man I love, he always made sure he danced that one with me.