Last weekend, our nephew Ian got married to his wonderful girlfriend Lindsay at the town hall in Rosemary Beach, Florida. It was a grand affair — one of the happiest weddings I can remember.
They’re off to a good start.
During the reception, a voice from behind me said, “Are you Marshall Ramsey?” Considering 99.9% of the crowd was from the Atlanta area, it caught me off guard. Maybe someone else besides us was from Mississippi? I turned around and saw a woman about my age. She was attractive but I didn’t recognize her.
“Yes.”
She replied, “You took me to the senior prom.”
I looked again and sure enough, she was right. It was Tammy Wayne, who had gone with me as a friend. We ate, went to the dance and then I dropped her off afterwards. She was dating someone else by that point. I went off and had fun with my friends.
It was nice night.
I didn’t see her again after that.
Thirty six and a half years later, there she was.
We caught up on three decades of life, I introduced her to Amy and my middle son. I couldn’t hear well (the band was amazing and loud and I’m deaf when things starting getting the least bit loud). I did hear her say a couple of times that I hadn’t changed.
I drink Formaldehyde after all.
She is a good friend of the bride’s mom. I’m uncle to the groom. What are the odds?
She walked away and I didn’t see her again after that.
Life is totally random. And I’ll probably bump into her again in the nursing home.
