BY DAWN REED

In October 1980, my beloved and I raced to the state line and got married — against my mother’s wishes. We were 18 and madly in love. She thought we were crazy.

Standing in the belfry of the Wise County (Va.) Courthouse, we repeated vows that sealed us in matrimony: “to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” In truth, we had absolutely no clue what the words meant or what lay ahead. We were 18.

There’s a reason certain phrases needed to be included that fateful day. We were high on life (and fear of being caught), but we needed to be reminded that good times were not the only ones before us.

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer.” We have been there on many occasions. The “in sickness and in health” part we are experiencing, as I write. 

Three weeks ago, my beloved was helping load a van for a mission trip to Neon. The plan was to serve food and assist families with mud-out. Pulling a large cooler filled with ice and water, his right arm made a noise that he knew couldn’t be good. (The guy next to him heard it, too.)