This weekend, I went to a wedding. When the picture above was made, the bride and groom who said their vows last night hadn't been thought of just yet. It was taken (I think) in September 1984. Missey got really nervous right before the ceremony and made me play "Victory in Jesus" for her on a piano tucked somewhere into a room at the church—can't remember where. We were roommates at Auburn when she was planning her wedding. She and another dear friend, Ginger, who lived with Missey and me for a year at AU, got engaged to cousins, Larry and Brian. (Ginger and I thought it would be HILARIOUS to take this picture that made it look like we were both in the shower.) All of those families loved to come down to cheer on the Tigers during football season, and they would bring carloads of home-cooked food with them. They always had room at their table for one more McDonald's-weary college kid, and they always made me feel like part of their family.
The little blond-haired boy pictured here with Missey grew up to be a fine young man. I know she would've been so proud of him—and so grateful that his family raised him to have an inquisitive mind, a kind heart, and a compassionate spirit. I know she would've adored the lovely young woman who met him at the altar last night. Ginger and I sat together at the ceremony, and we both sensed it—Missey's spirit there, somehow, and an unmistakable kinship between that beautiful bride from 1984 and the one standing in front of us.
Somewhere, I saw one of those inspirational signs (or maybe it was a bumper sticker:) that said, "Friends are the family you choose." I've been truly blessed with my chosen family of friends. I love you all. (And Missey, whenever I feel the need to give myself a talking-to, I start by imagining you saying, "VAL-er-IE!" the way you used to do when you were about to straighten me out. Hope you don't mind . . . because I'm never going to stop doing it.)