A Wedding Like No Other
In Chapter 7 of my book, “A Widow Walks into a Bar …. How to Step Out into the World Socially,” I wrote about how to get back to socializing again, after a woman’s husband dies. At the end of the chapter, after listing several suggestions, I wrote:
“Since Tim died, I’ve been to a lot of places and done lots of things, but I still haven’t been able to attend a wedding, despite being invited to a couple of them. I just can’t do it. Nor do I have to. People will either understand or they won’t. And if they don’t, too bad. Eventually, I suppose, I’ll find the strength to go to one. But I’m comfortable with that for now.”
Well, “eventually” has arrived.
It’s been more than seven years since Tim died, in February, 2018. At the time, our youngest son, Tommy, was a senior in college. Fast-forward seven years, and now our youngest has met the love of his life and is preparing to get married. The wedding is in August, 2025. I’m delighted. His fiancé Crystal is a beautiful young woman who seems to be an “old soul.” She never met Tim --- Tommy’s father --- but I know he would have loved her. She’s exactly the right match for Tommy.
Their wedding will be a wonderful, celebratory affair. And I’ve been very involved in its planning. I’ve bought --- not one, but two --- mother-of-the-groom dresses. (I couldn’t decide which I liked best, so now I’m wearing one of them to the rehearsal.) With enthusiasm, I’ve attended the engagement party, the shower, the family meetings to plan the wedding details.
But deep down, I’m scared to death.
Weddings are triggering events to me. And in an effort to manage my grief, I’ve avoided them since Tim died.
My own wedding, on July 28, 1979, was a comedy of errors. It was a wedding like no other.
My mother made my dress. In the style of the late 70s, I wore a hat trimmed in lace. The flowers --- daisies --- cost less than $100. The “official” reception was at the church --- a small Presbyterian chapel. We served cake, which cost about $25, and punch. (I remember the florist was supposed to supply a beautiful little floral cake topper, but she never delivered it, so we had to make do with a little bride and groom ornament that somebody found in a church kitchen drawer.) That reception lasted about an hour, then we invited close friends and family to my parents’ house for a party --- the real reception.
And what a party it was! In her haste to get home and serve her guests, my mother got a speeding ticket. When she and my father finally arrived to their own home, they found that all of our guests were already there, jumping in the pool with clothes on and consuming champagne. Dad jumped in with them. And the party carried on. People were singing, eating, and dancing in my parents’ pool and in their tiny living room.
For years after, many people told me that was the most fun wedding they’d ever attended.
After the party, Tim and I headed for the airport, but were surprised to see that the entire wedding party and many guests had followed us. This was in 1979, in the days prior to TSA screening. This raucous crowd accompanied us all the way to the gate. Tim’s aunts Eveleen, Annie, and Janet loudly climbed up the down escalator, each of them wearing a bridesmaid hat they had swiped from the bridesmaids.
Once we got to the gate, I realized I’d forgotten to bring my wallet, which contained $200 --- all the money we had to spend on our honeymoon. So, Tim’s best man rushed back to my parents’ house to get it --- breaking through the airport shuttle doors and running down the shuttle track to save time. Miraculously, he didn’t get arrested.
Just as Tim and I settled into our seats on the plane, we looked up to see my dad trying to board, shouting, “That’s my daughter in there! She just got married!” He was escorted off. No arrest there, either. Another miracle.
We arrived in Miami, scheduled to go on a cruise to the Bahamas two days later. But the next morning (the first day of our married life), I woke up and realized that I was missing one of my suitcases --- the one that contained most of the clothes that I had personally sewn to wear on my honeymoon.
I locked myself in the bathroom and cried. In the meantime, Tim called his Aunt Janet, who worked for the now defunct Eastern Airlines. She somehow managed to ship that piece of luggage on an Eastern flight to Miami, arriving the morning of our cruise. (And this was a lone suitcase shipped without a designated passenger --- something that would never happen in today’s world.)
We managed to get on our cruise ship with all luggage, money, and most of our sanity intact.
Thirty-eight and a half years later, we were still happily married, with two adult children, one granddaughter, and one on the way. Tim’s untimely death at the age of 61 in 2018 prevented me from celebrating any more anniversaries with him.
Last month, in a letter written to Crystal, my future daughter-in-law, to officially welcome her to the family, I offered this advice regarding her upcoming wedding to my son:
Go with the flow. In all of these preparations, you might think you’ve covered everything.
But, without a doubt, something will surely go wrong.
And as important as these things seem now, the dresses, the flowers, the food, the music, and even a missing suitcase won’t matter.
Surround yourself with people who love you (and can get you out of trouble if necessary).
And cherish every moment.
So I must say the same things to myself: Stay in the moment. Cherish it.
Because the happy moment can easily be clouded by sad thoughts and “what-ifs” and “I wish he were here.”
I know that Tim will be there with us in spirit. He would absolutely love spending this time with his son and his new daughter-in-law and her family and friends.
I’m here, in person, to do that, too.
This is not a wedding I can skip. I’ll need to find the strength to go to this one, whether I think I’m strong enough or not. And, guess what? It’s on me. I’m in charge of that grief. I can handle this.
I still like to celebrate the memory of that wedding like no other.
But that was then … this is now. And I’ve decided that I look forward with an open mind and heart to experience another wedding like no other --- the one in which my youngest child steps forward into the rest of his life with his love.
