Speak now or forever hold your peace.

Fifteen years ago today, I married Patrick.

We had been dating for only a few months when we got engaged. I didn't say 'when he proposed' though, because he didn't. Still hasn't. ahem Not properly, anyway. But that doesn't really matter now.

Subtle, aren't I?

We had been dating for a few months, and his parents were beginning to be....irked? by the fact that he was spending his nights time at my house. So we went to dinner with them where we had planned to be firm and strong and tell them "We are serious!". Well, after stammering through chicken fried steak at the Black Eyed Pea, making small talk, we left not having taken our big stand. So as we were riding home, sitting at the red light at University Drive, Pat blurted out "Mom, dad, Shawnee and I are in love and we're thinking about getting married!"

Ok, in his defense, we had talked about marriage before. Loosely. In that 'knowing' sort of way. It was the natural next step.

Well, they were about as excited as two parents could be who had known me for mere months and who were in the front of the car with their backs to us, one of them driving. "Oh! That's wonderful!" They were happy and excited, but it was tempered with trepidation. After all, in the few months I had known Pat I had already made my share of faux pas with his parents. We don't need to go into that.

And me? I was also thinking "Oh! That's wonderful!" And it was.

We spent a year planning the wedding. We picked the date based on when my lease expired. Practical, no?

We got married at Meadowlark Gardens on a beautiful, clear, warm late summer day which could have not been more perfect. Well, on second thought.... Our flowers, done by a friend who happened to be a professional really good floral arranger, somehow read "Two O'clock" as "Three O'Clock" We waited, together. Not worried about traditions of not seeing each other before the ceremony. In fact, we had planned to take pictures before the ceremony so we could attend the reception with the rest of our guests. But since we had no flowers, that plan did not work out. I was mad, but the instant she showed up I forgave her. I had no reason to be unhappy that day! So down the aisle, er path I walked!

Oh, now that was an interesting sight! I had two escorts! So did everyone else, but I will get to that in a minute. Yes, I was escorted to my groom by my brother and my friend Trey, who happened to be a former boyfriend.

Hold up. A former boyfriend?! (That is what you just said, right?)

Yes. Trey and I met in 1991 when we worked together at Chili's. We dated for about 5 minutes. Ok, a month or so. But the we became and remained close friends for the next several years. He was more like a brother to me than anything, and I wanted him there. So he was. But it was all balanced out by the fact that Pat has six brothers, and I had, aside from Trey, one friend. Stacey. She was my Maid-of-honor, my sister-in-law Sarah was my Matron-of-honor. And Pat wanted all of his brothers in his wedding. So my girls, my mom, his mom and my grandmother all had two handsome Ryan boys on their arms! Formality? Pftt. It was a party!

Our reception was here, at our home. It was his home at the time, his parents' home, where he grew up. Money was a big consideration, but it couldn't have been better than here! Pat and I built a deck here that summer, a deck that now supports a sun room so I think we did a pretty good job! We were catered by a family friend who made some amazing barbeque. We had a good dj. Lots of beer and wine. Our pastor came and got drunk. Our cake was...oh my gosh our cake was amazingly good! Bavarian cream and fresh fruit filling, whipped cream icing which melted not long after we served it so that the top layer slid off. Pat's dad gave a beautiful speech. It was the most ordinary of weddings to everyone but us.

By now, you are certainly wondering if I am going to lay out in great detail each day that has passed since then. Nah. It also reads very typically. We were in love, we were happy. We were broke. We were prosperous. We were broke again. That cycle continues. We lived in some cute places, and some not so great places. We had babies. We had fights. We bought a van. We sold the van! We lost our fathers and his mother. We lost touch with friends, even ended a friendship or two. We lied to each other, and vowed to never do it again. We kept secrets from each other, and learned the painful lessons of the damage that can do. We each fight our demons, both individually and together. We have journeyed through faith together. We have journeyed through cancer together, both his and those we love who have lost to it. We have faced my steady barrage of health issues together. I am not one to say I could never do anything alone, but I am certain my illnesses would have been much worse without him by my side, or sitting beside my hospital bed, or in the waiting room of whatever outpatient center we went to or the consultation rooms of a variety of doctors. Doctors' offices where I also held his hand as he was told his mother may have just six months to live, or his father had even less time than that.

We have seen each other at our absolute best (so far) and probably at our worst. We have seen dark days, and the bluest skies. We laugh and laugh and laugh together at the silliest of things that only we understand. We have a million inside jokes. I love seeing him across a crowded room and knowing he is "mine". He's got my back, and I have his. He never allows me to talk badly about myself, saying "That's my wife you're talking about!". I say with all certainty that Pat is the truest, best friend I will ever have in my life. I made the best choice the day I dumped ol' whats-his-face to have my first date with Pat on my birthday in 1994. Today is the anniversary of our wedding, but really I married myself to him much earlier. Probably before I met him.

And we have only just begun.