In a few minutes my husband and I are leaving to catch a train to New York.  Not sure what we’ll find when we get there in terms of how the city is faring two weeks post Sandy.  The trip has been planned since the week before Sandy and was always going to be an adventure anyway.  Tomorrow, bright and early (probably too early for me, but I’m up to the task for this), we’ll head to City Hall in lower Manhattan.

I have a silk blouse, a skirt, and kinda high heels for the occasion. My husband has a good shirt and slacks. We want to look nice. The reason being is that we are temporarily leaving Kansas and entering the land of Oz where it is possible for two people who love each other (regardless of their sex) to solemnly swear their devotion before a presiding judge and some witnesses – in this case Bob and I and another friend of the couple.

Champagne will be drunk.  Words of love and congratulations will be tossed like confetti about the newlyweds. And there will be laughter.  Lots and lots of laughter. And joy so fierce our faces will ache with it.

Above all there will be love.

My wish for my dear friends is time. Time for loving and supporting one another, for long years of a life well-enjoyed. My wish for the world is this:  Acceptance and a whole lot of love. Maybe some music and a little peace. That’s all.

Not too much to ask for, n’est-ce pas?

Andy (aka Jack) and Ray, 2009.