On May 1st, Karl and I celebrated our third marital anniversary. I've already mentioned how sexy that wasn't. Well, for the second time since getting married ourselves, Karl and I celebrated our anniversary weekend by watching some of friends getting hitched themselves.
Our first anniversary was marked by me heading to the mainland with a bunch of girlfriends to watch Tim and Larissa tie the knot. (This was before they became some of our favourite people. That came a few months later.) I don't even remember our second anniversary, except that one of my co-workers shared the same birthday so there was cake. Pretty memorable, eh?
Our third anniversary was a very special one. On May 4th, we got to celebrate my maid of honour's marriage.
Then: Caity, Anna, Megan.
Now: Pregnant, Married, Married.
Megan and Jordan pretty much copied Karl and I. We got engaged on Mount Doug, they got engaged on Mount Doug. We got married the first Saturday of May, they got married the first Saturday of May. Megan even ended up picking a dress by the same designer I did. Some people say it was a coincidence, but I say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
This is the part where I choose to set the record straight. Not about imitation, but about Megan and I. To be brutally honest, I couldn't look at the above photo for a very long time. I couldn't look at a lot of our wedding photos for a very long time without getting upset.
The thing is, even before Karl and I got married, Megan and I were having problems. This isn't something new to me, I've had more friendships end in breakups than I want to think about. And usually I'm a cause but I'm not an initiator.
After my wedding, Megan and I had a low-key breakup. We petered out. I decided I was tired of putting so much effort into something that felt one-sided and she stopped trying too.
It was heartbreaking and frustrating. I was angry and bitter. Five years of amazing friendship gone for reasons I could hardly grasp, knowing that I wasn't without blame.
Then Karl and I went away in September for our annual Alberta trip. I was in desperate need of a holiday, feeling absolutely crushed by the burden of Mom's injury, the height of migraine mania, and the resulting subsequent screw-ups at work. I was losing my mind and all around struggling to stay positive.
And on one of the last nights of our holiday I got a text from Megan and Jordan with the unsurprising news that they'd gotten engaged.
The news was 24 hours old, everyone at church had found out that morning, and I didn't even think we would be invited to the wedding.
Megan had been my first call after Karl had asked me to be his wife.
Times had changed and change is hard.
The next weekend Mom and I went on a trip down to Bellingham to celebrate her birthday and catch a Newsboys concert. Megan had gotten in touch with me the day we left asking if we could talk. We ended up talking on the phone while I waited for the ferry to load.
And she apologized. Everything that had gone on in the past couple years, before and after I got married, she simply apologized for. And then I apologized.
And then a few weeks later the two of us went for coffee and she asked if I'd be a bridesmaid.
The months that followed weren't even as awkward as I thought they would be. I love me some awkwardness, probably because I had to learn to embrace it to survive life with myself, but Megan made everything as natural as could be. It was almost like we were back where we were two and a half years earlier.
Which brings us to May 3rd. When things like this were possible:
Forgiveness is amazing. And powerful.
And I love this photo too much not to share:
My bridesmaid three years later.