He was an atheist, so he didn't think in religious terms, but I think you could substitute "God" for "marriage" and gain an even deeper understanding of what this whole mystery of matrimony involves.
The Catholic Church teaches that this is a sacrament, something touched by grace—something, miraculously, blessed by God. That very idea demands that we take our lives as married people seriously.
When I preach at weddings, I often tell people that married couples become collaborators with God, continuing His creation in the world. And it's true: being married says that God's great story goes on.
But in 1983, standing in that backyard sipping a beer and chomping on chips, I couldn't have imagined any of that. Most of us don't think that way when we're 24 years old. Our minds are on other things. But now, as I mark twenty-five years with the girl I was growing to love on that summer day, and as I marvel at all those years have brought me and all the places they've taken me, I can't help but be in awe.
And I can't help but be grateful. Grateful that my life collided with that devastatingly beautiful brunette with the hazel eyes and the mischievous smile. Grateful that we made that great commitment all those years ago. Grateful that God gave us the time to grow, and not throttle each other, and to let our selves get out of the way, so that He could do His work.
It's work that is still going on, and will continue, I hope, for a long time to come.
Or, as we like to say in the Latin church: Ad multos annos!