The cake tasted awful. Better than I thought it would, but still awful. Very awful. It tasted like anything and everything that had taken residence in our freezer for the past year: chicken, ground beef, frozen broccoli, and that undefinable freezer smell that no box of Arm & Hammer baking soda can absorb. But we took a couple obligatory bites because that’s what you do with your cake topper on your first year anniversary.

“Can you believe it,” Jason said to me as we cut slices from as far into the core of the white cake as we could. “This cake was at our reception!”

“It was better then,” I said, trying to be funny as I swallowed, wondering if some parasite was about to move into my digestive system. (I know, parasites can’t live in freezing conditions, but in my brain, they can!)

Jason and I also watched our wedding video and, as we did, Jason mentioned a couple times, “I wish we could have had a camera at that angle, to capture your expression” or “It would have been nice if someone had taken a picture of that moment.”

But no one was there to catch the split-second glimpse of a new bride enchanted by her groom, her prince. We can’t go back for a do-over.

And we can’t recapture the richness of a Trefzger’s Bakery wedding cake - fresh, shimmering, and airy - after holding it hostage in our freezer these twelve months. It just can’t taste the same.

That’s when it hit me: we must live very much aware and in the present, every day, independent of anything else to remember for us what we should remember for ourselves. Even if all we can recall is the general sweetness of a wedding cake the night we danced and said, “I do.”

Provided by http://pendrops.wordpress.com/2007/04/08/wedding-cake/