9 ish years ago, in a Midtown Manhattan Kleinfeld’s, as a blizzard rolled in, I said yes to this Dress, and for me at the time, I think getting married meant this dress, and being wrapped up in the same big warm arms, forever. I cared about the pictures. Many years later, after we got the kids to bed, I’m back in this dress after we got the kids to bed, and my husband is patiently taking many pictures of me, enabling my Moment, that so much life has happened in the past 8 years and here I am back in it, and there are definitely bigger things to care about and more important things happening but he’s fully committed to taking these pictures because THAT’s what marriage is. It’s letting the person be who they are with zero judgement, meeting them where they’re at, challenging gently, loving unconditionally. 8 years is bronze, and perspective. I still care about the pictures. But I care more about the Man, and his happiness, and the promise we made, and this life of dirty crockpots and car stickers in weird places all over the house, stuck to my train as I shove it back into its plastic.