Bold Moves Are the Best Moves

Today is our 10^th wedding anniversary.  Brides often talk about the wedding day they dreamed about since they were little girls. I can honestly say I never had those dreams, or maybe I’d just forgotten about them by the time I was 44.  When he proposed on the 4^th of July, wedding planning was at the back of my mind. We already had the family I wanted.  The day was only to make it official on paper.

Since we’d gotten engaged at our “happy place,” it was only fitting we’d have the wedding there.  We realized that a wedding on Monkey Island was not only a little obscure at the time, it also wasn’t easy for guests who had to travel.  We’d keep it small and details simple.

It seemed we had plenty of time, but we didn’t have many chances to go to the lake to prepare. I assumed my mom would be thrilled to take on the food, cake, and flower scheduling while she was there, but she was dragging her feet.  We would soon find out she wasn’t feeling well because her previous cancer had returned.

Suddenly it was January, and nothing had been planned.  My sister flew to KC to help me shop for a dress. My mom showed up just to see me ring the bell and make a wish once I’d chosen it. My only wish was she would be there on May 2^nd.

The rest of the planning was mostly done by phone. A local chef agreed to prepare our favorite dishes and recommended a cake baker. Our photographer and florist were the first recommendations we were given.  When the florist went out of business in April, I drove around the nearest town searching for a new one and placed an order. A very creative friend and her daughter designed the décor without ever seeing the venue. My wedding preparation skills would have sent Bridezillas into a rage.   

Two weeks before the wedding, my mom decided she didn’t want to go through chemo again. It was heartbreaking to watch her suffer so terribly. Our dear family friend, the creative one, called my bridal shop and asked them to rush my alterations then went with me to learn how to bustle my train. We had our good friend on call to possibly perform the ceremony early in KC instead of Monkey Island. Our planning had become day to day.

The weather that week was much like it is now, windy and rainy. As if we could handle more bad news, the building manager of our reception venue let us know they had a leak in the roof, and it would not be repaired in time for our celebration. The chair covers I’d ordered on-line had been delivered in 4×4 pouches and were a wrinkled mess.

I’ll never forget the next call from another family friend a few days later.  The venue was at the top of the condo building that we all lived in at the lake.  Amid her own grief of just losing her husband, she rallied a group of women in the building, some of whom I’d never met, to gather their ironing boards and creative ideas.  They spent the evening ironing 75 chair covers and crafting a receptacle in case it rained. I will never forget the thoughtfulness they showed or our friends and family who provided many more acts of kindness on our wedding day.

Looking through the hundreds of pictures from that day, this one around the Rubbermaid trash bin filled with hydrangeas and tooling is one that takes me back to the happiness of that day. It’s a reminder that people are good, and we can still find joy during hard times.  I love the goofiness of my husband and the foreshadowing of our son’s preteen looks.

It’s been over 30 years since our first meeting in line to Up & Under.  Our first year of marriage was probably more difficult than most, but it has made us appreciate the other nine even more.