We had planned to get married on April 1--since we both felt like fools trying it again. I had been married and divorced three times, and he had been divorced twice. It seemed like a perfect plan--only it didn't happen. We just both drug our feet and let the day pass us by.
In May, we talked again about getting married, but still, did not make any effort to actually do it. He had already moved in with me and we were comfortable with the arrangements. Then, on May 13, he was in an auto accident. I went to the hospital emergency room and told them I was his wife. Only he had told them he wasn't married, so they wouldn't let me in. I also couldn't sign paperwork allowing them to treat him for his injuries. I had to call his brother to come to the hospital to take care of that.
He was in the hospital for 13 days. The night before he came home, he asked me if he could come to my house to recuperate. I told him he could, but that we really needed to get married if he did, because the doctor was talking about it taking two years for him to fully get over his injuries.
So, in July, when he could stand up without crutches, we got married. It was a small ceremony with close friends and family at our house. After the judge who performed the ceremony said "I now pronounce you man and wife", his brothers and friends all lined up to take turns doing their duty. They all said he had told them after his second divorce "If I ever get married again I want you all to just kick me in the ass!" That was the first I had heard of that vow.