For Years to Come

Lex and I were lounging around in our bedroom and started talking about how our lives were in the early days of our relationship.  How we were inextricably drawn to each other. How we became necessary to each other, and how each of our senses of well being became completely tied up with the other’s.

I still look at Lex and see the much younger woman who overcame obstacle after obstacle in order to run her ranch and make a success out of it. Meanwhile, she dealt with alienation and isolation, and had been abandoned so often in her life that it’s a wonder that she trusted me so easily.

But there it is. Sometimes you just know. Sometimes you see the person, hear their voice, and you know that this is the person you’re meant to be with for the rest of your life.

Lex is that person for me.  She saved me. Not just from the creek, but from a life with no future. I know my grandparents love me. I’ve always known that. But the one-on-one commitment to another person who you want to share everything with is hard to find.  And more precious than anything.

I asked Lex if she remembered our wedding vows.  I was embarrassed to say that I don’t remember the words I said, but I do remember every emotion I felt.  Lex confessed afterwards that she couldn’t remember the words either. But then she pulled me close and kissed me.  Then she said, “I’ll never forget this.” And she kissed me again.

Some friends of ours are being married at the end of October.  Lex joins me in hoping that the day is a wonderfully blessed day for them both.  May their lives be filled with love, laughter, and the devotion that comes only with the deepest love.

Dedicated to Cindy and Cathy.

Amanda.

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Amanda Walters – Renaissance Woman

I’ve just come down to the den from getting cleaned up while Lex put the kids to bed.  I figured, as long as I embarrassed myself in public, I might as well do it here, too.

You all know what a Renaissance Fair is, right? In case you don’t, it’s like a county fair with a few exceptions.  The entertainers are dressed up as wandering minstrels and try to sing like minstrels did in the middle ages.  Men, women, and children dress up in period costumes, wear all manner of wigs and make up, and party like it’s 1499. There is jousting, food cooked in kettles, home made ale and honey mead.

Once in awhile you see  Star Trek aficionados who blame their costumes on some kind of worm hole they claim to have gone through. The food is okay, the costumes are eye-openers, and hand over eye closers when your child points to a codpiece and starts giggling.

The trouble started when I said I was thirsty and Lex pointed to a not too far off beverage vendor.  They were selling mead. Just as we got there, the person who’d been selling the mead left and a very buxom woman took his place. She watched us walk up to their table; rather, she watched LEX walk up to the table and barely noticed the rest of us.

Okay, so I think that my wife is gorgeous and I agree with anyone who thinks she’s an eyeful.  A “cleavage full” is a different story.  How she could mistake Lex asking for a small cup of mead for “Can I stick my nose down your boobs,” is beyond me.

Did I mention that I’ m banned from ever attending this particular Renaissance Fair again?  It was only a jousting lance.  Could I help it if she was determined to wear it up her butt?

Amanda.