in honor of my valentine

...A little trip down memory lane. I wrote this for our wedding website about two years ago: the story of how we met. So epic. 

P-dubs was the first person I met on my very first night in Charlotte.  After a stressful and very hot two day trip down from NH (think breaking down outside of DC, two mattresses and three people in a station wagon…), I arrived at the house in Huntersville to find that the water had not been turned on yet. In an attempt to wash away some memory of the trip, my sister Dionne and I headed over to the other Taylor girls’ Mallard Creek apartment to take advantage of their newly cultivated Southern hospitality (ahem…shower). Upon walking into the apartment, I noticed Paul amongst the crowd of Taylor girls there to celebrate Erica’s birthday with some Coldstone cake.  I was a little too captivated with the thought of a warm, cleansing shower to form any thoughts beyond that--but my sister would later say he reminded her of Oprah’s designer, Nate Berkus. (Don’t worry, I had to Google him , too.) After our showers, as we sat there with wet hair and no make up (but feeling a lot better), I DID notice he was wearing khaki shorts and boat shoes. Hmmm…boat shoes…people in NH don’t wear those unless they're actually on a boat. And I must say, that was the best ice cream cake I’ve ever had.

Fast forward a couple months later after fall get-togethers, football games, volley ball tournaments in the park, and a drastic hair cut on my part (another story COMPLETELY)…Paul and I began to hang out more often.  Then we saw each other almost every day. Then we were dating but “not really dating.” And somehow at the end of that summer it was official…don’t ask me how or when.  And certainly, don’t ask him.  My roommates might know… but then again I lost a bet with them about this exact topic and ended up running a half marathon. 

Fast forward two years later after nephews born, sisters married, beloved grandparents lost, wonderful new friends made, old friendships strengthened, trips to hither and yon, boy hair cut grown out (praise the Lord), an inordinate amount of sporting events, and umpteen stories about my class (that he so patiently listens to)….and we are convinced that God’s best for us is for us to be together. Forever (or at least 60 or so years).  Boat shoes and all. 

The Beautiful Mess

Still love him. And his boat shoes. I'll take at least 70 more years. Thank you very much.