In Brief—Musings on the author’s wedding…and a little advice.
Love Blossoms Unexpectedly—
It was a beautiful day in late spring, but aren’t all wedding days beautiful!
We gathered on our front lawn, a light Southern California breeze carrying the scents of the ocean and the flowers that abounded. A few friends, a rambunctious child, the minister, a flute player…and my wife-to-be, the woman I had been searching for all of my life, as lovely as she has ever been. Dressed in my casual white suit, nervous as a whore in church, I will never forget that picture.
We had written our own vows and committed them to memory. The Unitarian minister from Santa Monica, the man who stood waiting and would represent the state, had loaned us the book that contained suggested vows. We tailored one to fit our belief in the necessity for recognition of each individual’s uniqueness. The vows that we recited that day were a perfect fit; they still feel perfect today.
Somehow, despite the nervousness we felt that threatened to freeze the words in our throats, we repeated the vows to one another. The traditional kiss sealed the contract, the rambunctious child was corralled, the musical notes bathed the hearts of all present and all was right with the world. And then my mind draws a blank.
My next memory is of the reception in the Malibu canyon. The rustling oak trees cast their shade over the rustic restaurant. A perfect setting for a perfect day. The wine flowed to lubricate the celebrants such that we hardly noticed the slow service. I did, but I didn’t let it spoil a perfect day. We had gone from my wife’s cool rejection of my flirtation three years earlier to the commitment of our vows. Evolution works in strange ways.
We met in the summer of 1976 as she crossed the work area of the pottery studio where I taught. “Wow,” I thought and immediately asked her out to coffee. “No, thank you,” she coolly replied as she walked away. Talk about dampening my ardor. She was understandably skeptical of this guy in his patched jeans who had a reputation as a chaser. It was only when she noticed that I was reading a book by a notable psychologist that the thaw began.
I soon invited her to a party thrown by the studio owner. Despite the entreaties of the owner, we spent the evening talking with one another and learned that we had much in common even though we had grown up on different sides of the Atlantic Ocean. There were ups and downs over the months, but eventually we bought a house together. The wedding on that perfect day was in the front yard of that house. The rest is history. Oh, the stories of the past thirty-six years.
Everybody has a story to tell and a marriage or relationship that has lasted through the years. Some of the weddings are traditional, some are lavish, some are in cheesy Las Vegas chapels while others are in a forest amid grand trees that reach the heavens. Some are not weddings at all. Some weddings are of two men or two women. Some are of bisexual or transgender couples. What makes them alike is that there are two people who love one another enough to stick together through thick and thin until death do us part. All are special.
It doesn’t make any difference whether those people are of different races, religions or no religion at all, whether they are young or old. What matters is that love blossomed between them. Whether it’s love or circumstances that’s the glue holding them together, it’s the togetherness that shines through.
I wish you love!