From my earliest memory, I have always felt, I don’t know, for lack of a better word “different” and I have always felt completely OK with that. Then you grow older and you hear that you are different. You read that you are different. Again, I was always OK with that. I would make that different-ness count. I would make a life that people would notice. I would work harder, try harder.
When I met Ted Sive in 1988, and we embarked on a life together, we had no rule book. We decided to write our own. We would build a life and a bond by our rules. It was a bond built out of love–how could we go wrong? We built a family (of both friends and blood), started businesses, took trips, learned, had arguments, made up. It has been an amazing journey together.
Over the years, we would attend weddings, and that different-ness would once again make us stand out. As I type this, please know I am not meaning this to come out as wanting sympathy or to feel sorry for us. Truly, that is not my intent. Merely, fact, and just the way it was, and we were OK with it. Well, not really completely fine with it. It really made yesterday even more special. We got to do something we never, ever thought we would. We got to hear, “I now pronounce you legally married” and oh what music that was to our ears.
Now the details. We were married in the village of Nyack, in a garden overlooking the Hudson River, with the Tappan Zee bridge in the distance. The former mayor of that village married us. I wore my Dad’s favorite cufflinks, and the French jacket & ascot we found on our last trip to Provence. Mister Sive wore the Hermes bow tie I gave to him on our 20th anniversary. Our pooch Bailey was by our side. It was exactly how we wanted it to be.