Nuptial Priorities

It isn't hard for me to imagine why, in an instant, you're ready to scream, "It's off! The whole thing is off!" And it's not because you don't want to get married and it's not even because you don't want to marry the person you're about to marry.

It's because of everything and everyone else.  It's because of all the demands.  It's because of money.  It's because at 11 o'clock at night four days before your wedding, your car's alternator decides it's no longer going to function.

And maybe it's just that one thing.  Everything up until that point has been stressful, certainly, but nothing that sends you to the edge like that alternator.  It's because you have everything planned down to the minute at that point.  Your entire weekend from Thursday, on marked out, mapped out, scheduled and perfect.

Now, mind you, I did not plan for the Day to go perfect.  I never even expected for it to be even remotely close to perfect.  Honestly, I didn't even expect everything leading up to it to go perfectly.  But I did expect to have a car.  I did expect for me to have control of my schedule.

Yea.

Not so much.

And it's the cause and effect time line that happens in an instant in my head when the head lights go out and the "Volts" light goes on.  In an instant, I can see everything wrong happening.  I see the "who is going to do this" and "how am I supposed to get here"?  What happens when I don't have control?

For those of you who don't know me, I'm a control freak.

Granted, I've made major leaps and bounds in this area, but it lingers there. I used to have to have all my books organized in my locker by height, all my pencils on my desk perfectly sharpened and arranged parallel and perfect.  I used to organize items on restaurant tables, used to have to resist the urge to straighten a total stranger's collar for them.  And then I'd think about that damned collar for the rest of the day, itching, wondering how if I saw them again, how I could segue into a conversation about collars, how theirs was amiss.

I don't have those issues anymore.  I'm content with disarray and disorganization.  There are some areas and things, however, where it rears its ugly head and reminds me how badly I need to feel like I have control.  And now that I don't, for arguably the most important and special day of my life, it's all shattering.

People have been asking me, "Are you nervous?"  "Are your feet cold?"  "How do you feel?"  And up until an hour ago, my answer was always, "No. I feel ready."  "Why would my feet be cold? It's 90 degrees outside?"  "I feel great!"

Understand, I am not nervous and I am not getting cold feet.  I am frustrated.  I'm frustrated that it's not just some party we throw where there's meat and ale and music.  I'm longing for simpler times when there weren't wedding programs and seating charts and caterers and tent rentals and rules of do's and don'ts.

My recommendation to those of you whom aren't married?  Elope.

I know now why I never dreamed about a ceremony when I was a little girl, why I didn't plan the wedding down to the last detail.  There was a very sane part of me that thought, "ARE YOU INSANE? PEOPLE ACTUALLY SPEND TENS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS ON THIS? AND HOURS AND MONTHS AND YEARS OF THEIR LIFE PLANNING THIS?"  I mean, what happened?  When did it go from "Let's celebrate these two people getting hitched!" to "You put Uncle Ernie next to Cousin Mildred and they hate each other. That needs to change."

I just don't understand.  There shouldn't be this much pressure over something that's supposed to be so joy-filled!  Who started the tradition of "this should be that" and "do it this way"?  If I met them, I'd punch them in their smug, snobbish, upward nose.  It's ridiculous.  I want to celebrate with you when you get married whoever you are.  I don't care if you have hotdogs or filet mignon.  I don't care if you have Miller Light or a 1998 Barolo.  If you invited me, I take that as you want me to celebrate with you.  I sincerely do not care how your ceremony goes, who else is there, or what your favor is.

The reason I cry at weddings is because it is the start of the greatest adventure any human can embark on with another human being.  It's beautiful. It's heart stopping. It's fascinating.  We've turned it into a show, a circus for the entertainment of our guests and not for the celebration of those whom are being wed.

Look. I'm not being selfish and saying "Why can't the day be all about me?" because I don't give two horse tail shakes.  I'm marrying, quite literally, the man I have spent my whole life pining for, wishing for, praying for and you think I want it to be about me? It's about us and when you swoop in with your list of "do's and don'ts", "should's and should not's", "silk or cotton", it changes the whole atmosphere of what weddings are supposed to be about!

My point is... I get why people are ready to throw in the towel when it comes to weddings. It isn't always because of their significant other or because it's all happening so fast.  It's because of people.  People demanding and expecting things on a day that has nothing to do with them.  And then you, the bride, realize you got in way over your head and you can't meet these people's expectations.

And you find yourself, four days before your wedding, staring out the window, every finite part of your being aching and longing and wishing you had run away and been married.  That it had been small, simple, with those closest to you.  That you had followed it up with a party in your backyard at your new apartment after your honeymoon with whoever wanted to show up.

Being the first to really be a part of a wedding on this level (I've never even been a bridesmaid) that is how I would have done it in hindsight.

Everything is still going to be beautiful and I know, at the end of the day, when we're driving off in whatever car to go home and BE together, I'm not going to give a damn whether everything was in one piece or not.  I'm going to look over at him, reach for his hand, and be completely and utterly overwhelmed by the fact that a man as honorable and genuine and loving as he could love me so much that he would choose to spend the rest of his life with me.

So, yup.  I'm ready to print a retraction.  To apologize to everyone invited and call it a day and just be married quietly, privately, and to disappear.  But being that there's no going back, I'm going to go out with a bang instead.  And for those of you that actually care about the details, that care about who the caterer was and what kind of flowers I used and what was and wasn't in my ceremony, you can jump off a bridge or better yet, take a good, long look in the mirror and tell me why all that bull matters to you so much on a day that has nothing to do with you.

...

I'm getting married. And a half hour ago, when I started this, I was terrified.  But now, after all of this, I remembered why I'm getting married and more importantly, to whom.  And it's true that nothing else matters.  The rest is a blur and can be a blur.  It can thunderstorm and we can get soaked.  The entire food table can catch on fire or the sound equipment can break or the electricity short circuit.  I'll drive to Wegmans, get burgers, grill 'em up on that fire and dance to the sounds of our hearts beating as one because that's what we'll be--one flesh.  And that's something that I have been waiting my whole life for.