Tags: honeymoon, love, marriage, wedding day
First of all, huge sigh of relief. I made it! I succeeded in getting married! As my last post may have suggested, this was no easy feat for me. Tons and tons of stress in planning this day, this life, all leading up to this point. And the truth is, the stress did not end for me until I was just about to walk down the aisle. I stressed about things that were really important to me for the day, but in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t matter. I was mad at myself for what I was stressing me out, but it’s because I wanted everything to be perfect, like any bride does. And it was, but not without drama.
The day before the wedding, my (now) husband got into a car accident. Nothing major, and it wasn’t his fault, but it was clearly not what we needed. The day before, we had a few last minute cancellations after we had already paid the venue — at automatic loss of hundreds of dollars. As much as we thought we might become numb to the situation, we really didn’t. And what really stressed me out was what every bride worries about — the things you cannot control: the weather. I was unable to have the outdoor ceremony I had dreamed of, but got a window of time to take photos on the beach, by the water, so I was happy.
I really worried that I was going to get sick on my wedding day. Most of my friends know that I throw up often usually when I’m drinking, but as I was lining up to walk down the aisle, a sudden sense of calmness came over me, and I think I know what it was. Finally someone was directing me. Finally I was not responsible for anything except being a good host and having a good time. Being told when to walk, what to say, when to say it, was comforting to me after making so many decisions blindly on my own.
And going through the night was surreal. It was crazy to watch every one of my plans come together nearly exactly how I pictured them. I did my best to listen to the advice from former brides, to take time to take it all in, and I really did. I didn’t drink too much and because of it, I remember each choreographed moment and each surprise moment. It was not a blur like I had been told. I know a lot happened that I don’t even know about yet, and I look forward to hearing all of those stories. But here are the moments I will remember:
I will remember looking into my husband’s eyes during the ceremony as they filled with tears. I’ll remember the person who I saw most during the ceremony. I’ll remember hearing the words I had read over and over again on the script. I will remember taking shots of tequila instead of wine when we did the Jewish blessing. I will remember the first dance, being introduced as man and wife, my best man and maid of honor’s beautiful speeches, my father’s speech and our dance. I’ll remember my impromptu solo dance to Tom Petty’s Free Falling. I’ll remember the most hilariously awful hora I have ever seen in my life. I’ll remember the blow up penguin being tossed around the dance floor. I’ll remember the wobble at the end of the night with my bridesmaids and bachelorette crew. And most of all, I’ll remember the love that I felt in the room as my friends and family celebrated the next step in my life.
There will be more to come as I digest the fact that I’m really married. But for now, I am off to my honeymoon and, for the first time in the history of Pushing Thirtyy, I will not blog while I travel. I will miss this space for a couple of weeks, but am looking forward to coming back refreshed with stories from a far away land, and wedding pictures!
Tags: marriage, weddings, widows
I was having lunch with a colleague of mine recently, an older woman, about the age of my parents. Her husband recently died suddenly, leaving her a widow. She is a very positive person as I know her and she was grateful that he went peacefully. From what I recall, she was back to work pretty quickly.
This happened about a year ago, so I’m unsure of what stage she is in in the grieving process, but something she said struck a chord with me. I don’t even remember what we were talking about or what she said after this one line — that’s just how much it stuck out to me. I still haven’t completely digested it yet, but hopefully in writing this I will be able to unpack the idea a bit.
She referred to her husband by saying, “Back when I was married…” For some reason, perhaps because I am young, I never really thought about the “’til death do us part” part of the vows in any real detail. It’s a hard idea to digest at this age. I’ve always thought of this phrase in the light of both of us being old and never thinking we weren’t married even when one of us passed on. Perhaps it depends on the age that it happens, but it is weird to think about being separated from your life partner by something beyond your control. Of course, the alternative means of being separated are clearly unsavory, but I just never thought too deeply about separation by natural means.
I hope I never have to think too much about it, but in studying my colleague’s grieving process from afar, it seems that she has gotten comfortable with her new reality. Though she may refer to herself as being unmarried, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t still love and miss her late husband, but she’s not living in a fantasy world either. I think it shows great strength and I admire her for being so grounded in a tough reality. I hope, when the time comes for my husband to be and I to part ways, hopefully we will be very old, but we’ll leave each other knowing that our love lives on.
A little musical complement to this post below.
Tags: being single, marriage, married club, singles club, wedding
Disclaimer: Before I begin with today’s stream of consciousness, I must warn that this is yet another wedding/marriage post. I realize that they are becoming more frequent as the big day gets closer, and I apologize to those who come to the blog to read about the other topics I cover on the journey to 30. I promise that not every post will be about this.
Ok, so now that I got that out of the way, it’s actually a perfect segue into today’s topic. The great divide between singlehood and coupledom — the club you are initiated into once you get a ring on your finger, and the reason why single folks stick together. Something happens when you get engaged and when you get married. All of a sudden you are surrounded by support from those going through the same thing and those who came before you. Messages of “how’s the planning going?” and “treasure every moment” and other items of encouragement let you know that you are not alone.
Unfortunately for me, these words of encouragement sometimes hit me the wrong way. In all honesty, being engaged is not all flowers and candy, and while I have friends going through this process at the same time as me, not all of their experiences are like mine, and at the end of the day the first person I go to when I need to talk is still my best friend, who is single, because engaged or not, she still knows me the best because we are both still the same people.
But I totally get it. It’s this strange transition that so many of us go through. Not everyone will get married, but it does seem to happen in clumps. I can’t even say how many people I know who have gotten married this year or are getting married. But within a group of friends, the person who takes the plunge first may find it lonely on the other side. Those in the middle have some comfort in knowing others are going through it, and the one who is last may feel like, well, they came in “last place.”
I don’t know. What I do know is that among my close girl friends, they are all over the spectrum in terms of relationship status, and as for my guy friends, almost all of them are single. So while I feel like everything should be able to continue on as it did before, because I don’t plan on shutting out the uncoupled people in my life, something will shift. And I may feel a little alone when my other married kin are not around. I may be treated differently because I’m not on the hunt. I may want to hang out in the other club house and not feel quite right. What I anticipate is that it’s going to be different for the next few years until more of my friends couple up, even if I don’t think it needs to be. It just will be, because that’s what transitions are like.
So with some hesitation, I guess I’ll be joining the club. Thanks for the warm welcome.