One year.

There was some anxiety that one of our groomsmen wouldn't have his tux pants. We sent our ringbearer down the aisle with (gasp!) our actual rings tied to the pillow. K-State lost to KU. The mums were taking over the church. There were bows on the pews! Bows! We held hands. The quartet played. My brother wrote us a song. We were surrounded by so many people, with so much love. A pastor mentioned spooning and didn't seem entirely fond of Ecclesiastes (which is only the best book of the Bible ever). We talked to each other as we poured sand and felt a few hundred eyes on us. A bridesmaid got sick on the trolley. It was hotter than expected. We waited in the lobby of the hotel in our wedding gear forever while Jonathan's wallet was located. We had Chipotle to make up for not eating all day.

It was perfect, in that non-perfect way. It was a reflection of who we are and what we value and who we'd like to become.

Sometimes I'm still amazed that even when you think your love is as big as it gets, it still grows.