January 25, 2022

John and I got married right before the pandemic hit, back when you could hug people and hang in crowded bars and scream into karaoke mics at the janky nightclub just off of Front Street in Caye Caulker, Belize, where we got married, without worrying about getting sick.

We talked about "the Coronavirus" breakout in China with strangers on the day of our wedding.

I remember listening to reports on NPR about it while we were in Toronto on our way home

hoping it wouldn't hit Pearson until we were back in Winnipeg aka flyover country.

We got lucky. So so so lucky.

We managed to get 36 people down to a tiny island off the coast of Belize for 10 glorious days of

drinking beers on the beach
lounging in the ocean at the Sip N Dip
and eating waaaaaay too much seafood

right before the world fell apart.

We've talked about that a lot since then, while we've been cooped up in our house for

days
weeks
months on end

talking about The Wedding as if it was some big, beautiful dream.

Which in a way, it was.

We knew that, for most of the people coming, our wedding would be either

their first trip outside of Canada/the States
their first trip to a tropical place
their first trip to Belize
their first trip off-resort, or

in some cases

a blend of some or all of the above.

Weddings are special and all, but we didn't want our wedding to be "just another day" or "just another trip to Windsor/Winnipeg" 

we wanted something weird, special, and memorable

and by some weird, fucked-up stroke of luck, that's what we got.

The perfect trip. The perfect wedding. The perfect reminder that we're so lucky to have the friends and family that we do.

People who trust us enough to follow us on an adventure
who dress up like 18th century monks and write rap songs about us
whose laughs we could hear echoing down the street as we walked to meet them
(the thought of it makes me teary-eyed)
a lot of whom we haven't had the chance to see since the pandemic started.

These past two years have made me realize how lucky I am to have married John. 

Locking down was one of the easiest parts about the pandemic because I spent all my time around my best friend 
(who drives me crazy less often than I would have guessed)
but it's still been weird having most of our marriage defined by this thing that happened

right as it started

and that's still affecting it, two years in.

Still, some of the best parts of the last two years (and being married so far)

have been the times we've spent at home together.

Two years of planning and saving and strategizing
writing silly songs and practicing epic covers
planning outdoor hangs and DnD campaigns on Zoom
cooking amazing food and making fancy cocktails for ourselves
making art, writing, sprucing up the new homestead.

Somehow we always seem to find a way to make the most of the situation we're in.

Lately, since the latest round of Covid cases has had us staying home as much as we can
we've been listening to records when we make dinner and play games in the dining room
Motown, old rock n roll, blues, you name it

these daily moments of intimacy feel like a break from the rest of the world.

A world that feels crazy and scary sometimes
that feels overwhelming and unmanageable
that feels frustrating and unfair and upsetting

these feelings fade away with the smell of something cooking and the sound of vinyl crackling.

The other night while Elvis was on I said to John

"dance with me" 

so he did

taking my hand in his and putting the other on the small of my back

holding me close.

We swayed slowly as the music played, singing the words softly, my head on his shoulder

wishing I could stay there forever but knowing that as soon as the song ended

we're right back to facing the world together
the crazy highs, the toughest lows
making magic and memories
and turning everything into an adventure

this year, and every year ahead.

I hope we get many more of them to share.

Photos via Jasmin & Matt Photography who did an incredible job of documenting our day.

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