Wedding Woes

Today on Oprah ( ugh, can't believe I'm starting a blog like that because I'm not really a fan of hers. Most often I will scan by and maybe nap to her but rarely feel 'inspired' like the masses) but today...well, it was interesting and made me think.

The subject was women and marriage and losing themselves in it by turning yourself into 'a good wife'. It made me remember what life was like before I got married...

I was young for one thing. I was only 21. I was a few months from finishing my degree (which I did finish, don't worry! lol) and he was 26. We were broke - oh, so broke - and for about six months before we married, we didn't live in the same city. For about three months after we got married, we didn't live in the same city.

The wedding was pretty traditional and full of the typical hype but not in the same 'beautiful people' way that I see from so many people now. My family are not members of the beautiful people crowd. There are no false pretenses that everyone is happy for you or that everyone is excited about it. It was not my favorite day and a lot of that had to do with my friends and family.

My mother and sister were fighting (later determined to be orchestrated by lies told by the other sister, since confirmed to be a whackadoodle) and fighting in the way that they weren't speaking. Fighting in the 'oh look, there's sister rolling her eyes while my mother welcomes K to the family' all caught on videotape. My sisters were hurt at the fact that I didn't ask them to be part of my wedding party. They are quite a bit older than me and were never really my 'friends' so it truly never occurred to me that they would consider being hurt.

The whackadoodle sister had one chore I'd asked her to do - to set placecards on the tables at the reception before everyone arrived (something that had been missed when setting up the night before) so that the parents had a table reserved for them. She apparently got 'too busy' and didn't bother so my aunt and her family promptly took their place at one of the front tables, refusing to move for my mother and uncle and so my mother was relegated near the back.

K's family - ooh, what fun. His mother and father were fighting. I'd never seen them fight. I'm sure they did but they were basically a 'hide everything from everyone' kinda couple so why in the world they figured now was the time to be open about their fight, I have no idea. They were fighting on the rehearsal evening because FIL had just bought a pink cadillac that day and not consulted MIL, at least that was the jist I got. He promptly plopped himself in the lounge below the hall while we were setting up and told me - why the hell would I go up there with that woman?

Well...I can't really blame him because she was being notoriously bitchy. She strong armed her way into the kitchen where some lovely friends were volunteering to help prepare the meal for the next day as we catered it ourselves. I remember I was busy setting tablecloths out and my mother came and tried to wrestle one away from me. I took a deep breath and asked her as kindly as I could to please let me worry about the tablecloths and she should worry about the food in the kitchen. She gritted her teeth and said she was not going into the kitchen while that woman was in there. My MIL had a way about her...lol

My best friend/maid of honour had refused to do a toast to the groom at the last minute and so as a last minute replacement we got another friend to do it. This is the same best friend who 'planned' a bachelorette party only to decide at the last minute that she didn't want to do it afterall. She's still my best friend - because there's a lot I really like about her but I don't rely on her to do things for me that involve other people.

My SIL - who I was told was a wonderful guitarist and I believed it looking at the many, many certificates and awards still displayed in her mother's home twenty years after winning them - played the guitar while another friend sang. At least, we assume she played because there was a guitar and she had it in her hands but apparently she was too embarrassed to tell us she really couldn't play and we actually never heard her. My friend just sang over top of her because during all the rehearsals she couldn't get her to play with any success.

One of my other bridesmaids sat in the hair stylist chair for an hour only to come out of the shop looking like, well, like a sixties prom queen. It was bad and as much as you wanted to reassure her it wasn't - we all knew it was a lie. She went back to my mother's house, cried and redid her hair.

K's cousins were sitting together at a table at the dance and I remember walking over to them to continue my rounds of greetings and they all promptly stopped talking as I arrived. They smiled at me and looked around at each other uncomfortably and I thought - welcome to the family!! His aunt got drunk and they ended up putting her into a garbage can.

My aunt - the one who stole my mother's table - also took too many of the crocheted gifts my mother had made for the ladies. So many - that some guests ended up not getting any and my mother had to go over to the pile on my aunt's table and ask her if she could have some.

And my FIL. Yes...he continued to fight with my MIL, who continued to be a bitch to everyone in sight - and he spent the entire dance leaning up against the bar talking with the bartender and getting himself very, very drunk. When he tried to leave, he was so drunk he couldn't walk and promptly fell down the stairs of the hall and crashed into the glass doors. They took him back to the hotel where he spent the evening talking to the porcelain gods. The next morning he was still so hungover he walked into my mother's house for the breakfast and turned around and left immediately because the smell overwhelmed him.

K's older sister - who is not exactly the smartest tack - would trap me, yes trap me, at the reception to talk about her 'aunt flo' problems. She also stood crying and clinging to me at the breakfast because her dad was having chest pains and she had to leave to go back home and she was afraid he was going to die. Umm - nope. He's just too old to be such a fucking idiot and get so drunk.

But I remember vividly that I had prayed to God to just make sure the ceremony went smoothly because that's what really mattered - when K and I vowed to each other that we would cherish each other. God answered my prayers. That one hour in the church was perfect. It was magical and lovely and I truly felt blessed. I also was quite sure that this marriage would not be easy but that we weren't alone.

And we piled into the car afterwards and the groomsmen drove us through the drive through at McDonalds who sweetly treated us to free ice cream! lol

So our wedding wasn't perfect. It was so far from perfect - but I remember it fondly nonetheless because like so many things in my life, it has afforded me some really great stories for my repertoire.

I have no regrets. I may have changed things and I certainly wouldn't do it again (the wedding) but I have no regrets because through it all, K was there; making me laugh and smile and meeting my eyes across the room and shaking our heads in wonder at the chaos around us. He was there telling me none of it really mattered because we were married and we were together.

No regrets.