Just the Same

August 22, 1998

Eleven years ago this very day, Saturday - August 22, 1998, Scott and I left Justin, Texas in separate vehicles headed to Granbury to spend the day preparing for our wedding. We married in a quiet little bed and breakfast just off the square called "The Secret Garden." It was an enchanting old house with a loft bedroom upstairs, a large bedroom suite downstairs and a private hide-away cottage where we would spend the night out back.

That day we were surrounded by our children - Justin, Brittany, Travis, Taylor and Megan- who were dressed in our colors of blue and white western w and stood with us as we vowed before God, our family and friends to join our lives together in marriage. The faint sound of doves can be heard on our wedding video as they were caged in the arbor just out of sight. I still count it as one of the most exciting and blessed days of my life.

Back then, I hoped we had what it would take to stand the test of time, but I really didn't know. I was hopelessly romantic. Couple that with a tattered, torn and broken heart and life and I just felt lucky to be there. Like I was living a dream. And, I was. The fairy tale I had dreamed of my whole life. Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome with his hat, his boots and his Wranglers ride in to rescue me and take me off into happily ever after.

If someone would have told me then what happily ever would have looked like I might have run for the hills... But, as I said, I'm hopeless in the lofty dreams of fairy tale endings. My friend, Cheryl took me to my mother's home and we visited her hairdresser where we laughed and talked and I felt the first jangles of nerves dancing around inside of me. When she spun me around and I saw the exact hairstyle I had selected from the magazine I knew it was going to be the perfect day.


Once we arrived back at my parent's home, Momma took me downstairs and opened up her small cased of precious jewelry. She handed me a pearl necklace and a pearl earrings before slipping off the first wedding ring my father gave her for me to wear on my right hand. I gathered up the other miscellaneous things, kissed my family goodbye and ran off to the bed and breakfast to decorate, to bathe, to try to relax and to wait.


The afternoon began to wane as we finished afixing the simple bows and swags of blue and white roses to the arbor and the railings in the back yard. It was, after all, August in Texas and the sweltering heat was at an all time high. Cheryl hussled me into the suite where we assembled our baby girls with coloring books and crayons while their hair dried on the sponge rollers I'd placed in them earlier that day.



Cheryl finally talked me into soaking in the bathtub and letting her take care of the last few details for the day. I remember laying back in that warm, sudsy water and thinking it was absolutely too good of a day to be true. It may not sound like much to you, but for me it was a day I had dreamed of all my life. I was marrying a man that I loved with my whole heart, a man who helped me to feel safe and beautiful - a man to share my life, my dreams and even my sorrows with. A man who would love me in spite of me. And at that moment I realized I was only hours away from marrying Scott Edward Bentham and pledging my life to him. Sweet tears of joy fell in those moments of quiet realization.

I sat there for a long while before getting out and beginning to dress for the ceremony. I pulled out the dress I had hidden away under a garbage bag. It was a light linen sundress that I (and now this is telling) had picked up off the clearance rack at Wal-Mart for $15.00. It was not a high-end bridal gown, but a simple reflection of the life I wanted to live. The dress made me feel beautiful, and that is all I wanted to be. Beautiful before my groom. I allowed the whispy fabric to caress my fingers before turning to the vanity and applying my make-up. The finishing touches were in place when I heard a car door shut in the drive outside.

My heart began to beat with anticipation as I heard the voices of men echoing on the hot summer breeze. I climbed up and poised myself to spy a quick glance through the window set high in the wall. And that is when it happened... He walked by. My head felt light and my heart danced in my chest. I couldn't even breathe I was so captivated. I whispered, "Soon... Baby... Soon." And felt the warm tears of joy begin to course down my cheeks once again.

It was within an hour that people began to arrive and filter into the back yard where they took their seats and awaited our arrival. My babies and my best friend from Dallas, Brenda, preceded me down the aisle and I walked on the arm of my father to where Scott waited for me on the lawn. The Justice of the Peace asked, "Who gives this woman to marry this man?"

And my father's voice broke as he said, "Her children, her mother and I do."

1 Corinthians 13 was read and a simple ceremony observed before the words, "I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss your bride," were spoken. And that was it... I was now and evermore would be Mrs. Scott Edward Bentham. At around 7:30 PM we were married. And lauded with the cheers and applause of our family and friends.

Later, my cousin who was also divorced whispered in my ear - you give me hope for myself. I also saw my dad walk up and put an arm around Scott's neck and welcome him as a son. My joy was truly complete that day. Our reception was full of laughter and sweet moments of mingling with family and friends. I would often find myself separated from him, but a quick glance across the room made me smile. At the end of the night, Cheryl put on a sweet song about a man and his wife and how beautiful she was in his eyes. Everyone backed up against the walls and Scott and I danced there under the ceiling fan on the hardwood floors our first dance as husband and wife.

I treasure the memories of that day. The day a little girl's dream became true. I had married my prince, even if sometimes he seems like a toad, and we have truly found a place where we are more happily ever after than not. I love you, my sweet man. Happy Anniversary Scott... I'd choose you again. I love you.

One Flew the Coop...

The last few days have been strikingly bittersweet at our house. Our 19 year old, Brittany Ann, took her boxes, clothes and a few of our household items and moved into her own apartment on Sunday.

There were not many tears on Sunday, but as the enemy would have it there were heated words and tears on Friday night. The emotional tension of three women who have been one room away from each other for the last 18 years spewed forth like lava from an erupting volcano. Not even kidding. My husband - the only man in the house, sat in the chair and watched the drama unfold like a spectator at a hockey game.

I must admit - it was more the girls who let loose with angry words and accusation, but as I am learning it is no small thing to get sucked into the moment when emotions are running high.

Friday, my barely grown daughter announced she did not want to spend one more minute in this house and with a screeching tone declared me insufferable. At that point I realized there was no talking to her in this state, and needing her to realize how far beyond the boundaries she had ventured offered: "If that is truly the way you feel then you need to pack up your things and move them out tonight."

Her shock was mixed with fierce anger, but with a few footstomps down the hall she began to pack up what she would need for two days and left. My husband and I offered the olive branch - we both told her we did not want her to leave that way but felt we had little choice given her attitude and the feelings she expressed. We invited her to take the opportunity to talk this out with us calmly and without all the emotions. She replied, "I don't know what to say to that."

I started to fret once she was on her way to a friend's apartment for the night. But, then something happened. I realized that while this is somewhat painful and difficult - it may be necessary for us to cut the apron strings and for her to finally learn to fly on her own. I prayed for a while, then I reminded the enemy that he is a liar when all sorts of false accusation and worrisome rhetoric began to make it's way into my head. I reminded him he has no place in our lives because we belong to Christ. I also told him he doesn't get to tell me something bad is going to happen to her because of this... I slept well that night.

The next morning my heart was full of love for her and hoping to reconnect and recover from the night before. I dropped her sister off at work and went to Wal-Mart to pick up the few items we had talked about she would need. Then I purchased a gift card for her to buy groceries with and called to find out if there was anything else she would need. She said, "I'm sorry."

She asked me what I was doing and I told her buying the towels and things she needed for her new apartment. She said, "AWWWW... Thank you, Momma."

I asked, "Do you want to come home?"

She said, "Yes."

I asked, "Do you want me to come get you?"

She said, "Yes."

I was relieved and she was more humble. Things felt entirely different in that moment.

She got all moved in on Sunday and now we have a mostly empty room. Devoid of the life and trappings of a teenager in full swing. I'm so excited for her, while praying with great fervor that all works out well as God would plan.

Milestones are hard for me. My Jay never ventured out on his own as an adult. He will always and ever be seventeen as far as this earthly existence goes... But oh the glorious reunion that awaits us as we finally see him HOME in heaven again one day. God's grace and mercy are such a blessing at times like this. No tears, just a few bittersweet moment to mark our path along the way.

When did our babies grow up? That's what I asked Scott on Sunday night when we had come home and settled down for the evening. When?

He laughed. "It seems a long time ago."

It would seem they've been doing it all along. I just didn't realize how much until Sunday.