|Winter 1993, Montana|
That meant I got to spend a day hauling out dusty photo albums and envelopes – our “early days” start in 1991, when photos were actual prints from real film.
|Summer 1992, with Tinker the dog, at Woodstock|
One of my friends, after seeing the pictures the AARP photographer took last month, was kind enough to say that we look more the same age now than we used to. “Michael is closing that 17 year gap,” she wrote. “With every passing year, as he becomes a little older, a little greyer, a little more ‘distinguished’, you seem to be getting younger and more vibrant.” (Thanks, Linda!)
So I was trying to find pictures that showed the age difference in the early days but didn’t make us look hopelessly dorky (lots of those).
Looking at those early photos, what stays with me are a couple of things. First, how much we loved each other. You can see it in the smiles, the easy way our bodies touch. Second, how young Michael looks. Yikes!
|June 19, 1993, Damascus, PA.|
My favorite early photo of him is from 1992, when we visited the site of Woodstock on a summer evening. He says he looks stoned, which would have been appropriate, but he wasn’t.
How long have we been married? Long enough so that when I take pictures out of the wedding album, the plastic sheets crinkle and tear. Long enough that he’s lost the aviator glasses and some of his hair. Long enough to think we must have been mad. Long enough to know we should have had a professional photographer at the wedding. Long enough to know we did the right thing when we said I do.