A return to love.

Our friends were married yesterday in an impossibly exquisite beach wedding. He looked at her the way a man looks when his heart is filled with love and gratitude. And her? She floated down the aisle like some ethereal being, eyes dancing and glistening in anticipation of their future together.

It was just. . . . magical.

And we were there. Celebrating and cheering and surrounding them with love until the wee hours of the Caribbean morning. Most of us old friends who'd attended each other's weddings in years past and who felt that tingly reminder of what that first moment of "I do" means when it's right. Yes, we were there. All taking vows right along with them and being reminded of what magical things can happen when we return to love.

***

Happy Sunday.

How.

 **Caution: Gag-worthy mush ahead. Proceed at your own risk. **
 ______________________________________
Something I hear several times per week:

"Your schedule is so crazy! How on earth do you manage to juggle kids and work and teaching and patient care and writing and . . . .?"

My not-so-secret weapon?  Harry.

Harry M. = Baritone cheer section + Selfless helpmate + Hands-on father + Absolute team player + Rowdy-boy tamer + Outfit assessor + Butterfly-inducing charmer + Prayer partner + Loyal friend + Late night listener + Flower bringer + Wonderful husband + All-around good dude.

(Feel free to gag right here. . . .)

I'm sorry. I just love my husband. . .is that so wrong? 

(Gag again if necessary. . . . )

 

For the record? This is how.

***

(Bleccchhh.)