I married a blind man because I thought he would never have to see the parts of me the world had spent years staring at.

I laughed so hard that I nearly cried. That should have warned me.

Even without sight, he saw me.

By the time Lorie placed my hand in his at the altar, all those sweet memories had me in tears.

Callahan stood with Buddy beside him in a black bow tie that one of his students had insisted on picking out. Those same students were supposed to play a love song when I came down the aisle. What they produced was a brave, uneven version of one, full of missed notes and fierce effort. It was terrible in the sweetest possible way.

When the pastor asked whether I took Callahan as my husband, I said yes before he finished.