Twelve Years

10:56 AM
                                                        October 17, 1998
It was raining when I woke.  I don't remember caring and I don't remember eating breakfast.  The dining room was packed with giggles and hot-rollers and pretty make-up bags and bottles of hairspray.

After much deliberation I settled on Claire Danes (in Romeo and Juliet) hair.  We tucked little sprigs of babies breath into the braided crown.  I had never been prettier.  I wore my mothers dress.  I had tried on many and loved none.  The moment we found her dress hidden in the musty closet of her childhood home the decision was made.  It was exactly the dress I was supposed to wear: simple, short train, square neck and bell sleeves - very Princess Bride. ("My dear, sweet, Wesley!!!!")  I floated through the day in a bubble of eighteen-year-old bliss.  And through the eyes of a child-bride, everything was perfect.






I refused to hold the ceremony in my home church because it was orange and had no center aisle and I had spent too many hours as a little girl pouring over our hard cover Royal Family wedding album to compromise on something so important.  The church I chose was regal and gorgeous and stiff.  The ceremony was not.  It took much negotiation to earn permission for our very non-traditional whims but we gained it, he with his persuasive personality, me with my "oh, please make my dreams come true" sweetness.
My roses : )

We began with Bon Jovi's If I Was Your Mother filling the sanctuary while the guys danced down the aisle to their places at the front.  This set the mood.  And my Great Aunt Carol did not have a heart-attack at our sacrilege.  We laughed.  A lot.  We sang a song we wrote together for our parents.  We joined in the snickers as we watched the look of horror spread across the best man's face and the whisper down the line of groomsmen and the panicked dash out and back and the obvious hand-to-hand pass of the forgotten rings.  We shared a shameless kiss to cheers and applause and skipped down the aisle when it was all over to We Go Together (because, like I could get married without a nod to Grease and my forever crush, J.T.).

Twelve years.  It feels like a blink.  It feels like forever.  He gave me roses.  He never gives me roses.  We have so much behind us:  three children, four homes, five cars.  It has never been easy but it has always been worth it and I can't wait to see what the next twelve years will bring.

7 comments:

  1. I love this, it`s adorable and lovely! I didn`t know you got married at my age! Love.
    Em, xo

    ReplyDelete
  2. I remember this day well. Still feel blessed and honoured that you chose me to be one of your girls!!!!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I remember your wedding so well! It was my first "friend" wedding and I thought you were so cool and pretty. I remember dancing with Dan and being very horny and jealous that you got to have sex that night and I had to wait! haha
    Happy anniversary!!
    Marie

    ReplyDelete
  4. I wish I was there to see the child bride...and roses?!?! Look at you!

    ReplyDelete
  5. that was a perfect blog entry. :)

    ReplyDelete

I love comments and I appreciate, consider and read each one. I welcome your thoughts, whether you're in agreement or not; however, this website is a happy place and I will remove any comment that I believe to be inappropriate, malicious or spam like.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Twelve Years

                                                        October 17, 1998
It was raining when I woke.  I don't remember caring and I don't remember eating breakfast.  The dining room was packed with giggles and hot-rollers and pretty make-up bags and bottles of hairspray.

After much deliberation I settled on Claire Danes (in Romeo and Juliet) hair.  We tucked little sprigs of babies breath into the braided crown.  I had never been prettier.  I wore my mothers dress.  I had tried on many and loved none.  The moment we found her dress hidden in the musty closet of her childhood home the decision was made.  It was exactly the dress I was supposed to wear: simple, short train, square neck and bell sleeves - very Princess Bride. ("My dear, sweet, Wesley!!!!")  I floated through the day in a bubble of eighteen-year-old bliss.  And through the eyes of a child-bride, everything was perfect.






I refused to hold the ceremony in my home church because it was orange and had no center aisle and I had spent too many hours as a little girl pouring over our hard cover Royal Family wedding album to compromise on something so important.  The church I chose was regal and gorgeous and stiff.  The ceremony was not.  It took much negotiation to earn permission for our very non-traditional whims but we gained it, he with his persuasive personality, me with my "oh, please make my dreams come true" sweetness.
My roses : )

We began with Bon Jovi's If I Was Your Mother filling the sanctuary while the guys danced down the aisle to their places at the front.  This set the mood.  And my Great Aunt Carol did not have a heart-attack at our sacrilege.  We laughed.  A lot.  We sang a song we wrote together for our parents.  We joined in the snickers as we watched the look of horror spread across the best man's face and the whisper down the line of groomsmen and the panicked dash out and back and the obvious hand-to-hand pass of the forgotten rings.  We shared a shameless kiss to cheers and applause and skipped down the aisle when it was all over to We Go Together (because, like I could get married without a nod to Grease and my forever crush, J.T.).

Twelve years.  It feels like a blink.  It feels like forever.  He gave me roses.  He never gives me roses.  We have so much behind us:  three children, four homes, five cars.  It has never been easy but it has always been worth it and I can't wait to see what the next twelve years will bring.

7 comments :

  1. I love this, it`s adorable and lovely! I didn`t know you got married at my age! Love.
    Em, xo

    ReplyDelete
  2. I remember this day well. Still feel blessed and honoured that you chose me to be one of your girls!!!!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I remember your wedding so well! It was my first "friend" wedding and I thought you were so cool and pretty. I remember dancing with Dan and being very horny and jealous that you got to have sex that night and I had to wait! haha
    Happy anniversary!!
    Marie

    ReplyDelete
  4. I wish I was there to see the child bride...and roses?!?! Look at you!

    ReplyDelete
  5. that was a perfect blog entry. :)

    ReplyDelete

I love comments and I appreciate, consider and read each one. I welcome your thoughts, whether you're in agreement or not; however, this website is a happy place and I will remove any comment that I believe to be inappropriate, malicious or spam like.

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