Twenty-one years ago today, I awoke in a bed that was not my own, eagerly and nervously anticipating the day, the week, the lifetime ahead. Looking out the window, I discovered that the snowflakes that had begun to fall the night before had continued, and now blanketed the ground. I had lived in Rhode Island for four winters, and could have counted the number of snowfalls that stuck on the fingers of one hand, plus one more that had occurred that same winter--on the night of Guy's bachelor party. Here I was on the morning of my wedding wondering if this snow was related to the crazy storm in Maine a year earlier when we had become engaged. My next thought, and the question my future sister-in-law asked, had to do with whether the native Rhode Islanders would attend the wedding.
A rhetorical question, really; I knew my family, who had travelled in from upstate New York, Vermont, Minnesota (and Kentucky, but he had lived in Ohio for quite a while!) would think nothing of driving in the slop, and most of Guy's family lived close enough to avoid I-95, which ended up to be pretty clear.
My bridesmaids arrived, and we went to have nails and make-up done, Lisa did my hair, they got me dressed, the photographer arrived. There's a commercial on TV now in which a little boy breathlessly tells a bride as she finishes preparations for her wedding that she is "so beautiful!" and runs away. That could have been my nephew, Dan, our ring bearer--right after he showed off his "Tail-yon leadder shoos." Guy's niece, Danielle, could not have been sweeter in her velveteen dress and hat, telling me she couldn't wait for the moment I would become her Tante Stephanie.
So quickly, it was time to think about getting to the limo--through the snow. We had no choice once the suggestion was made: my bridesmaids put my lace boots in plastic bags and tied them up. With my feet inside them. Yes, indeed, I walked from the house to the limo and from the limo to the church sporting plastic shopping bags. And I was absolutely thrilled!! Fortunately, someone captured a photo, otherwise there will come a day when no one believes that!
As we waited behind the curtained glass wall of the cry room for the ceremony to begin, and the strains of "Sunrise, Sunset" from Fiddler on the Roof began, I peeked through the curtain to see our mothers being seated. The line "When did he grow to be so tall?" came just as Guy escorted his mother to her seat, I was overcome, and nearly began to sob. Dad was there, putting his arms around me and murmuring to me to calm me. I'll never forget that moment, those words. The way he smiled when I told him I was ready.
While I loved the ceremony, and the fact that it joined us as man and wife, I'm so very grateful for the numerous pictures taken by our photographer and our families and friends. Honestly, I don't remember much of the ceremony, other than silently directing Michael in when to sit and stand, while Guy did the same for Lynne, and wishing I could just chat with Guy while everything was going on.
I do remember Guy making his "lizard face" for a video camera while we waited for the reception; needing at least two bridesmaids to assist me in getting my dress out of the way so I could go to the bathroom; Rich and Guy causing a bit of a ruckus in the hallways in an effort to speed along our dinner; Andy laughing; all of us trying to hide in an alcove, as though anyone could have missed that huge white dress!
What a reception! From our introductions to our exit, we had a most wonderful time at the party! Whistles and hoots accompanied each introduction--including those of our parents, and I don't think I have ever smiled and laughed so continuously in my life before or since. All these years later, we still occasionally hear comments about our sorbet course, and Mom's dress. My family has always been quite "involved" in the glass tinkling tradition of getting the bride and groom to kiss. We complied, of course, dropping everything to exchange a kiss, or playfully searching the 3-5 feet between us--until, of course, dinner was served. That's when we got our wedding party involved. Mike and Lynne stood in readily, as they are married to each other. At one point, however, I remember motioning to Liz and Rich--Matron of Honor and Best Man--to take over, and I'm pretty sure there were times when each of us just kissed whoever was closest.
And the dancing! Our waltz that we learned under the careful instruction of Guy's cousin; sharing the dance floor with only my new husband for half the song, and then having our closest, dearest friends join us: our wedding party. Then a dance with our parents--me and Dad, Guy and his mom--that became a sing-along: Edelweiss. The polka I danced with Andy, who said he had no idea how; I back led him around the floor, saying "hopstepstepstep" the entire time. The dollar dance, where Liz and Rich required not only a dollar from each person in line, but also a kiss. The way we actually snuck out at the end, so we would not have to say goodbye or see the party break up. And neither of us had had more than a flute of champagne and a glass of wine.
It's hard to believe so many years have passed. I can still taste the cake--The cake!! A marvelous gift of the most succulent heart-shaped chocolate-chocolate mousse cake made by one of my college roommates!!--and I can still feel the warmth of that winter celebration. We were 21 when we married, so at some point in the next few months, we will hit that moment when we have been married longer than we were not. It's an odd thought, especially since there are times when I have to remind myself that Guy was not there when some singular childhood event happened, or that he may not have met this friend I've known all my life. It seems to me that he's always been there, and that we only just had to find each other. Neither of us is easy to live with, and at times we've each wondered at the wisdom of our love for each other, but I could not imagine a life without him in it.
All these things I think about every year on this day. The memories, feelings, emotions are not reserved for this day alone, but they come together in a rush each year on January 12th, the day that changed everything. The day that two became one, yet maintained their individual light, going against the grain. I love you, Guy, and am so happy to be your wife.
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