On June 8th, 1996 Dawn and I were united in marriage at a destination wedding in Webster, South Dakota. As this was before Google, we had to rely on our own research to guide our decision on which lavish location we were going to drag our friends and loved ones to bestow upon them the honor of witnessing the beginning of our marital union.

We chose this destination for a few reason, Webster is Dawn’s hometown, it is in close proximity to where a large portion of her large family resides, and I wanted my upstate North Dakota family to have a chance to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city and experience some relaxing small town hospitality.

That day seems closer in memory than 25-years seems like it should feel, good days are like that. On that day, Dawn was 24-years old, hitching her wagon to a much younger man. If you are going to hitch your wagon to someone, hitch it to someone younger. They don’t know where they are going, but they will get there fast.

At 23-years old, I thought I knew for certain where I was going. Looking back, I know for certain that I knew very little. I guess what I did know at the time was enough for then, enough to woo my classmate, my math tutor, my friend, into becoming my girlfriend and my wife.

Like any journey, we both brought our share of baggage along for the ride. Things we thought we needed, things that were ours, things that were given to us, things that we had learned from the lives around us. Things that sometimes we found ourselves peering over the top of to try to see one another.

25-years later, many of those things have been left behind, and what remains we are able to reach across rather than peer over. We know each other…for better and for worse…in sickness and in health. The questions that Father Leonard Savelkoul asked us in front of our family and our friends. “Do you…?”

We did, and we continue to do.

We are both pulling the wagon, it moves a little slower nowadays, but the direction is more reliable. 25-years ago I probably would have confidently orated upon the final destination of our journey. Now I know that that is largely unknown, and for that matter, largely unimportant.

The author, Robert Pirsig, once wrote that it is often more enjoyable to travel than to arrive, and that when making good time, the emphasis should be on good, not time.

So, we shall continue to travel, we shall strive for good, and the destination shall be what it shall be in its own time.

June 8th, 1996 was a good day, and we are forever grateful for all the good people that came from far and near to celebrate our day. Some of those people have since completed their journey, their destination is known, but they move on with us each time we ponder and celebrate our beginning. So it goes.