When I checked the time on my phone, I saw that Hilary had left me a message. Sent at 12:15 AM, it reads, "Oh my gosh, we're getting married! I'm nervous and excited!" Let the record show to Hilary, to you readers, God, and me, that I, too, am nervous and excited. The emotions swirl together, creating an emotional indigestion which only the recording of thought can alleviate.
Keeping with the time conceit, three weeks ago, I found myself sitting on the fourth floor of the Joseph F. Smith Building, wanting to sleep but unable due to an impending paper conference. It was around 10:57 AM, when suddenly I felt a wave of emotion, just like now. I became acutely aware there are children-my children-who are acutely aware of me. I began to pray for them, asking the Father of us all if He will bless Hil and I then with the strength to prepare our lives for them.
Now, it is 4:29 AM. Later today, family and friends will gather to witness and celebrate our marriage. It will be the binding of two families, the beginning of one, and the sealing of generations stretching into the past, present and future. I believe we will see three to four generations together in the same room. I feel the nearness of relatives who have passed on from this life, as well as the spirits of those who will bless our future life together. Some may scoff and say that I'm being sentimental, or I'm tired. Yet, I know it is times like these that extend beyond my comprehension. It is these sleepless hours when meaning is placed onto otherwise meaningless times, and I will regret writing this in the morning, not because it is vain or vulgar, but because such feelings and emotions are filled with the personally sacred.
But for now (4:36 AM), I will post and try to sleep. I'm getting married today.