My favorite poem is The First Day by Christina Georgina Rossetti. I gave it to my husband when we were dating and my friend read it at our wedding. The poem is special to me because it perfectly describes my feelings regarding my husband.
Schmoops and I actually met in high school. We had psychology together, but, of course, I didn't even register on his radar because he was a senior and I had a boyfriend so I wasn't "looking". As fate would have it, towards the end of the year I was accepted into a school-to-work program that he was also in; and I interviewed for and accepted the job he had been doing. Being the smart guy that he is, he had decided to stay home for his freshman year and get his basics out of the way at the local junior college much cheaper! So we got to work together during my senior year. During that time (including the summer before and summer after), Schmoops and I became great friends. Our friendship continued for many years, but we never dated per se. . .we did accompany one another to various events. . .but no kissin'! The years rolled on and "significant others" came and went. And Schmoops moved to Colorado with his fiance'. Since he is now married to me, I bet you can guess that relationship didn't work out and he moved back to Oklahoma. . .coincidentally about the time I got out of a long relationship. So our (match-maker) old boss secretly invited both of us to a party at his house. . .and we both attended. We kind of both consider this "The First Day" because on that June evening, it was love at first sight. And one year, one month and eighteen days later, we became husband and wife.
I definitely remember June 13, 2003. I will hold July 31, 2004 as the best day of my life. And May 25, 2006 and July 6, 2009 made for even more love and happiness in our lives. There are a couple of other private dates in there that we both keep close to our hearts. But oh to remember that first glance. . .what a story that would make!
The First Day
by Christina Georgina Rossetti
I wish I could remember the first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me;
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or winter for aught I can say.
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it! Such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow.
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much!
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand! - Did one but know!
1 comment:
What a great picture of you two!!
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