Wedding Shedding

When preparing for our wedding my fiance and I decided to write and recite our own vows. Our minister was disappointed with our commitment statement but I liked the realism. Our vow began: "While we can't really promise anything..."

I remember my uncle telling me, "that's no way to start a marriage, son." I said to him, "Did you hear the rest of the vow, the part about giving it the old college try?" He patted me on the shoulder and headed off to the cash bar.

Our wedding lacked "idealism" people said. It lacked an all-important, dreamy fairy tale aura. But, you see, we weren't going for that. How do you shoot for that when renting an old union hall that still has drunk teamsters hanging around from the night before?

It wasn't supposed to be a fairy tale, it was just two human beings thinking this love thing wasn't a half bad addiction to pursue. Three couples we knew, who had gone the fairy tale route, were divorced within nine years. They liked the love component as well, it was the human part that cost them.

I understood that.

I went into my marriage knowing full well how badly I screwed up some important things in my life. Why assume I could master this? I only agreed to give it one  hell of a shot. But people like my uncle expected more.

Our friends went all out at their nuptials. They released doves, for God's sake. It was supposed to symbolize something.

My bride and I didn't have any doves. We did have a wounded grackle, but that wasn't a planned thing, the bridesmaid found it on a freshly tarred road a block from the ceremony and brought it with her.

After being pronounced husband and wife, we released the bird. Half-covered in tar, it just flopped about at our feet. My best man ended up having to shoot it with his pellet gun, which sent most of our guests heading for the exits. My uncle said the imagery was all wrong. I said, "There is no imagery, Uncle Ken,  just two people getting married. Don't make it more than it is."

I figure a wedding should have the same grace, poignancy and pageantry you'd find with a married couple in their late 40s at home on a Saturday afternoon, because that's what life is. What does such a scene look like? My guess is the guy's napping and the woman's in the back yard giving the dog a bath with the garden hose. Nothing to be ashamed of, mind you, but certainly not Romeo and Juliet. Maybe it's his birthday. In that case there will be supper later, a song, a couple of stories, maybe a joke or two, and a gift will be opened. Well, there's my wedding. Not what Uncle Ken was hoping for, but then look at Ken's world: There was his wife, drunk at the cash bar, complaining that Ken wouldn't try Viagra. Place that scene next to their wedding photos and tell me if the comparison doesn't bring with it a bit of a let down

I want my entire life with my wife to look like our wedding day, so that we don't look back at the photos wistfully, but rather, with a sense of continuity.  I fell in love with a woman a long time ago, and years later we're still hanging in there. I don't have a great tux from that day packed away in my attic. The clothes I wore I wore a week later to a funeral. I wore them many more times before they were finally packed off to the Goodwill. Some other guy's wearing them now. He's probably turned them into painting clothes. So be it, that's how it should be. Life moves, only photographs remain. Many are pretty but few are real.

Take a photo on a Saturday at my house. Hold it next to the wedding photo. It's the same story, retold a hundred times over, from birth to death. I like that.

Deal with it Uncle Ken.