There's a reason why brides are escorted down the aisle.

As my father and I took our first step, my knees just about gave way. I'm almost sure no one took notice, even Dad. But for me, it was a sure sign I was swallowed up by the reality of what was about to follow. Only the firm rest of my father's arm made it possible for me to walk through the group of friends and family toward the altar.

Just a few days short of our 31st anniversary, it's odd how I remember almost every detail of the months that preceded that ceremony. Married in a Methodist church by a Baptist minister was, by all counts, an historical event in our hometown; and, it was a compromise easily agreed upon by both families.

We'd known each other since the 9th grade, but it had been far from a conventional romance. Most of our time together was spent as good friends. Our first attempt at dating failed, but somehow as time went on I became fixed on the idea we'd someday be married.

We'd spent the better part of the day with our group of friends, and I was the last to be dropped off. I'm almost sure he didn't walk me to the door because, after all, this wasn't a date. It was just two friends bidding goodnight.

I distinctly remember peering out my bedroom window and watching his car drive off in the distance. I pulled the curtain back and recall seeing the street light below. It was at this moment I actually heard a voice within repeat over and over, "I'm going to marry him."

He likes to finish this part of the story by adding, "After that, I never stood a chance." This never fails to bring a few laughs, but I think he and I both know he's right.

And so our love of friendship moved ever so slowly into the romantic domain. We've woven the threads of our life together, and will always be selective about the memories we choose to recall. There were many times when there was nothing to hold onto except the strength of his hand, and through it all, I could always find a resting place on his shoulder.

As we drove off in our 1968 Camaro with cans noisily flapping behind us, one friend turned to another to say, "It will never last."

But it more than lasted. And through mounds of flaws and imperfections, we both stayed loyal to the whisper of our young voices as they vowed to cherish our love forever.

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The Moseleys live only a short distance away from the church where they were married 31 years ago, and from the former high school where their names are permanently adhered to the gymnasium ceiling.