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Woo! Inspired by Dan's stories of adopting Sasha, I've been writing down everything I can remember. Mostly for myself to read 10 years from now, but if anyone's curious.....
Day One (Thursday)
We awoke just after 7 o'clock to the beeping of the small alarm clock on the nightstand. My friend Alison, who was the first of our guests to arrive in town the day before, was still asleep on the air mattress in the living room. Mark muttered something and went back to sleep, but I had work to do. I showered, then quietly removed several long pieces of pine boards from around Alison in the living room. Noticing that it was still wet and gloomy outside, I hauled all of the equipment in to our apartment's laundry slash storage room.
An hour and two curious neighbors later, I had finished our chuppah, an enormous wooden canopy under which the wedding ceremony would take place. It was wobbly, but that was traditional. It would symbolize our home together, open on all sides to our friends, but fragile without the love and support of the family within. I figured the fact that it was only straight if you looked at it from just the right angle was also traditional. We assembled the pieces in the back yard of the apartment complex, awaiting a coat of white spray paint and the arrival of our guests for a rehearsal party BBQ the next day.
Next on the Disorganized Bride's Checklist: Wedding Programs. With the help of the super-talented bridesmaid just waking up in our living room, a new ink cartridge for an old printer we'd been keeping in a closet, and some fancy parchment paper, some gorgeous programs were designed and printed out over the course of the next day and a half. At this point, I was reminding myself that, hey, I didn't like to have down time anyway, so why not be doing all this two days before the wedding??
I was also becoming something of a weather expert. Though all sources earlier in the week had predicted mid-70s and sunny for Saturday, something had changed their minds. In the days leading up to Thursday, the forecasts had become increasingly gloomy, ranging from partly cloudy and dry to "showers" with a 40% chance of rain. And the high? 63 degrees. Fahrenheit. In August. "Record low highs" predicted for August 7th, the weather discussion group crowed. I was shocked. In all of our months of planning, I had never actually believed that it would rain on our wedding day. Of course, we did choose to have our Ithaca wedding outdoors, which is probably just begging for a lesson from the Finger Lakes Weather Gods… "Cornell Reunion week? Sun!" "Wedding in the park, and they neglected to rent a tent?? Raaain!"
But for now, at least, the sky had finally cleared enough to allow some gorgeous blue sky and sunlight to peek through, and Alison and I headed off to the Commons for printer cartridges and one last meeting with the wedding photographer. When we got back to the apartment to continue work on the programs, Mark was off meeting his family, who had just gotten into town.
At about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, everyone arrived. All at once. Mark's family, consisting of his parents, Roger and Rachel, and two of his sisters, Pamela and Helene. The bridesmaids, including Alison (still working away at a paper jam that I managed to make even worse before we found the easy jam removal door in the back of the printer), Kate, with some wine and cheese that was quickly devoured, Anna, who had just driven over from, oh, California, and E(liz)abeth, with groomsperson Robert close behind. Groomsperson Mike arrived soon after, customary cooler of beer in tow, followed by Sujata, who was commuting in from a late day at the office. All we were missing was groomsperson Heather, who was due to arrive later that evening.
And thus, our bachelor/ette parties begun. Rather than heeding our wishes for strippers and keg stands, our friends had decided to take us out for dinner and drinks at our favorite establishments. Drat. Mark's group headed off to ABC, restaurant of choice for hippie vegetarians™, and the Chapter House, while I was whisked away to Pangea, restaurant of choice for special occasions™. I was surprised! I wasn't sure what to expect from everyone, but I was quite relieved to discover that any redness in my face that evening would be from wine, not utter embarrassment. :-D After being moved into the nearly empty indoor dining area, the five of us proceeded to have an excellent meal. Artichoke hearts, a tasty bottle of wine, steaks, risottos.... and three incredibly decadent desserts. I couldn't have asked for a better time. But wait! There was more! After dinner, already quite full from the meal, the girls drove us up to Stella's, collegetown's coolest bar slash lounge for some tasty drinks. A few requisite girly drinks later, Mark's group joined us, complete with the newly arrived Heather, Michael, and Kristie.
For the first time ever, I stayed up past closing time. We got home and fell into bed at about 2 o'clock in the morning.
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Though the alarm wasn't set for Friday morning, we awoke, excited, at our usual 6:30 am. I immediately started the slow old printer on it's important job for the day; the printing of 70 parchment programs, front and back. Printing at approximately one page every two minutes, this took most of the rest of the day. Mark and I drove off early to inspect the ceremony site, which I had still not seen, and drop off the parking voucher example with the main office.
The weather was not looking good. Though the sun came out while we were walking around the park, evidence of recent rain was soaking through my sandals. The site itself was incredible, even better than I had heard described. It was a small meadow almost entirely secluded from the other picnic areas nearby, surrounded by a thick ring of trees that only had three entrances. One of which, I was happy to see, was a stairway straight down to a lower level meadow, which in turn had a stairway that went straight down to the pavilion where the reception would be held. Guests would almost have a clear view of where they were supposed to go next, no wandering around the park in confusion. The site also had two nice old trees standing about ten feet apart, the perfect place to put the chuppah. We decided where the chairs would go and where the bridesmaids and I would make our entrance, and headed off to continue our errands.
The weather reports were now specific enough for Saturday that they were predicting weather for each three-hour segment of the day. 8 am - Partly Cloudy. 11 am - Partly Cloudy. 2 pm - Rain Showers. 5 pm - Rain Showers. My heart sank. This was it. Not only was it going to rain on our wedding day, it was going to start raining in earnest right when the wedding was supposed to start: 1:30 pm. At some point during my fretting, I was told I could no longer visit any of the weather sites. But still, it was all I could think about. I kept imagining all of our guests getting soaked while the bridesmaids and I shivered in our dresses.
This was a funk that only shopping could cure! Kate came over and took me out to the mall, where I was hoping to find ballet slippers that would deal with the wet grass better than the white flip flops I had been planning to wear. She very patiently listened to me whine about the weather and curse every dark cloud that passed overhead as we drove, then proceeded to lead me to the exact shoes I had been looking for. It hadn't occurred to me that ballet slippers would be in the slipper, not the shoe, section. Then a quick trip to the fabric store for table runners (nothing like the last minute), a stop at the bagel shop for lunch, and back home to prepare for the night's BBQ.
By the time we walked out of the mall, the sky had cleared to a deep blue with sunlight streaming through enormous fluffy white clouds. Coincidentally, I had also come to the calm conclusion that, whatever the weather was like the next day, Mark and I would still end up married. No stupid Ithaca rain was going to ruin that. I cheered up.
At home, more people were starting to arrive. Thomas from Texas, in his first Ithaca appearance since he moved away many years ago, Todd and Olivia, another HelpDesk couple, Lesley, our neighbor friend with much-appreciated and somewhat abused organizational skills, and the crowd of bridesmaids, groomspeople, and family. The bridesmaids had been out shopping all day, and arrived with bags and bags of fruits and veggies that would soon be devoured. We headed out to the yard to run through a mock ceremony, and quickly discovered that I had failed to plan all sorts of important little details.
Fortunately, Lesley, with stand-in Broom Judge, quickly got us all sorted out. My usual ability to underestimate time had determined that we'd be out there for only 10 minutes before we could get the food and the party started, but of course it was more like 45. Inside, more people had arrived. A bowl of goldfish crackers nobly gave their lives to keep everyone snacking until dinner. Robert quickly got the charcoal started, while a flurry of activity in the kitchen was slicing, dicing, and looking for serving dishes. The Tiki torches were lit, the food was spread out, and while I was busy calling people and working up schedules for a lot of it, a fun BBQ was had. I was pleased that, although most people had never met before, everyone seemed to be getting along swimmingly. And, if anyone noticed that we weren’t serving actual hamburgers, they didn’t complain.
Just as the grill was winding down and the last Morningstar Grillers were being consumed, several ominous drops of rain started to fall. Everyone grabbed something off the table and ran inside, in one of the most efficient and impressive table clears ever. As everyone settled in to The Guy’s Kitchen and The Girls Living Room (some exceptions, of course), the bridesmaids began to plan the next day’s schedule. Good thing, too, because the bride sure hadn’t. In what looked like an incredibly complicated series of conversations, a variety of grapes, carrots, and broccoli were used to determine exactly where everyone would be, and when. It’s possible I may have eaten Anna’s car later that evening, I’m not sure.
By the time the plans had been set and the food had all been eaten, everyone was getting sleepy. As everyone headed off, Mark and I were looking forward to the most sleep we would get all weekend. Bedtime? 11:30 pm.
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The alarm clock was set for 7:05 am, but I awoke at 7:03, which I took as a good sign. Turning off the alarm and leaving the clock on my pillow, as was the style at the time, I got up to get ready for the big day. Unfortunately, while rearranging my pillow as an Aja replacement, Mark somehow managed to drop the alarm clock from a considerable height onto his forehead. Not such a good sign, getting clocked on the head the day of your wedding.
We got ready for everyone to arrive by 8:30 so we could get out to the park by 9 and start dropping off boxes and arranging tables. I finished packing up boxes of stuff, all cool and organized, and put Mark’s suit with them to be loaded into the cars. Or so I thought. By 9 we were all gathered and ready to go, separating into cars of bridesmaids and groomspeople. It was chilly and damp. Sprinkles of rain hit our windshield as we headed up the hill. Mark’s “Electric Gypsyland” CD, on loan to Robert and Liz for their rental car, lent an unusual ambiance to the trip.
At the park, while Mark secured the alcohol permit for the day, the girls and I were busy preparing the reception site. The park had unlocked the door, hurray, and it was a little warmer in the pavilion building than it was outside. We marked off tables for the caterers and tables to-be-decorated, and assembled a white garden arch that, with balloons, would hopefully let people know where to go after parking. Robert rebuilt the chuppah at the ceremony spot, having had to completely disassemble it the night before when we realized that, hey, I should have measured the car before I built the thing. Finally, with everything pretty much set and the walkways hastily cleared of plant life, we all took off.
Mark’s group was headed to the bank and the Farmer’s Market to get the flowers for the day. I was off to my hair appointment, where Anna’s strategically placed car was waiting to bring some of us home later while others went straight back to get ready at the apartment. Unfortunately, I had forgotten (music of foreshadowing is heard) my little tiara for the hair appointment, so we all had to go back, anyway. Sometime between heading back to the apartment and getting to the salon, though, I was getting pretty giddy. With all of the little details and last-minute emergencies, it was too easy to forget why we were doing all this. Saying goodbye to Mark that morning, and knowing that the next time I saw him I’d be walking down the aisle… that’s when it really started to hit me. I was nervous and excited and couldn’t wait to finally, actually be married to Mark. I was, of course, also glaring at the clouds in the sky, which couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to pour rain or part and reveal the blue sky above.
Eventually, I arrived at the salon with Kate and Anna, right around 11 o’clock. The ceremony was scheduled to begin at 1:30, and was about 30 minutes away from the apartment where we would be getting dressed. The hairdresser, Tao, had told me that it would take her an hour to do my hair, but since the trial appointment had only taken 15 minutes, I somehow decided that, really, we could budget half an hour and be fine.
Tao got to work piling my hair into neat little curls on top of my head. Since my hair is currently halfway down my back, this was no small task. I realized, as 11:30 came and went, that Tao was serious about this taking an hour. D’oh!
Kate, in the interests of efficiency, went and grabbed lunch for everyone at the bagel shop as the hair was wrapping up. One tiara, one small rubber band, 60 bobby pins, and a ton of hairspray later, the hair was done. I probably looked pretty silly in my Hawaiian shirt and khakis with crazy dolled-up hair, but I loved it. I was really starting to feel this “wedding” thing.
No time to reflect, though, because we were running late. Anna rushed us back to the apartment, where Alison and Liz had already showered and changed while we were gone. I was told to eat my lunch as fast as possible as we arrived, late, at about 12:15. Since we had hoped to actually leave for the park at 12:30 to get there by 1 o’clock…. I had 15 minutes to eat, wash off, get into The Dress (no small feat), and get my makeup done. Oi.
Well, it didn’t exactly take 15 minutes. While Kate and Anna got dressed, I finished off my pizza bagel (mmm) and quickly brushed my teeth. Liz had a makeup station all ready to go in the kitchen, and after I applied some suntan lotion and foundation, she quickly did my eyes. I was starting to look pretty different! Then we all assembled to go over the dress, which had been hiding in my closet behind a blanket. I explained the fasteners the best I could, but I’ve never actually seen what happens when it’s fastened, so I was half-guessing what should happen with all the zippers and hooks and buttons and stuff. Somehow we managed to pull this humongous dress, crinoline layers and all, over my head with no damage to the makeup or hair, a testament to Tao’s rock-solid hair creation. After a bit of confusion over how the dress would fasten together, the job was done! My heart, at this point, was pounding wildly. I had the hair, the makeup, the dress…. I was really a bride! One more thing, though… I had almost forgotten (more foreshadowing of doom) my pearl necklace and earrings. With those on, there was nothing left to do but get to the park and get married… !!
Using a system of gathering and sheeting, I was deposited back in Liz’ rental car, fluffy white dress everywhere. Fortunately, I didn’t think a few wrinkles on the dress would be the end of the world. Clouds were still glowering overhead, but at this point, nothing was going to bother me. Kate phoned in to Lesley at the park, to let her know we were finally on our way at 1 o’clock, 30 minutes after our scheduled departure. Though I didn’t know it at the time, Lesley was knee-deep in small emergencies, most of which were the result of Mark’s trip to the Farmer’s Market getting delayed by the flower people. “Plenty of Posies”, indeed! Mark has taken to calling them “Plenty of Time”.
We hit the usual snag of traffic on Route 13, where the work on widening the road has left it far more narrow than ever before. Rather than work our way through the tangle of cars where two lanes merged into one, we took a winding detour all the way through a series of supermarket parking lots, out past the worst of the traffic. I don’t know if we saved any time or not, but it seemed pretty adventurous. Someone, at this point, had turned off the Electric Gypsyland album, leaving us in nervous, excited silence.
Kate’s phone rang as we were on the last climb up to the park. Kate listened to the caller, concerned, and after hanging up, told us that Lesley had called to let us know there was a problem.
A problem?!? I start to panic.
Kate says it’s nothing to worry about, and that she’s not supposed to tell me. I have none of that, knowing that my imagination will make whatever it is seem much worse.
We drive a little further. My heart has stopped.
Kate finally says, “Well, they’re having a little trouble finding the groom’s pants.”
The groom's pants?
In a flash, I remembered that morning, when I had taken Mark’s suit out of the closet and hung it in the entryway to be taken out to the car. My heart stops a little more. I realize, horribly, that while I had taken the suit bag out of the closet, it had only contained the suit jacket, not the suit pants. The pants, of course, had been removed to check their length for hemming. I felt like an idiot.
While the girls assured me that, somehow, this was Mark’s fault, my mind was racing. We were almost at the park, it would take us at least an hour to go home and get the pants. Everyone else had gotten to the park long before. It was already 1:15, only 15 minutes before I was supposed to walk down the aisle. And the groom had no pants!
Frantic phone calls were being made in the back seat. Did anyone else have pants Mark could borrow? No, this was a casual park wedding, and the only guy wearing black pants was my little brother, and he was the wrong size. Could we buy black pants somewhere? No, we were out in the middle of nowhere. My heart, which had resumed beating, sank. After all the months of Mark joking that he would wear his standard shorts and sandals at his wedding, he had finally agreed to buy a suit to match the very nice dress that I had found for myself. I asked myself if it would be so bad to marry Mark wearing shorts. After all, we’d still be married, right? But I just couldn’t do it. Call me shallow, but I really wanted to get married to Mark in a suit, not Mark in a suit jacket wearing cargo shorts and penny loafers. I dreaded the pictures.
Just as I had decided, sadly, that it was worth it to me to have everyone wait an hour to have Mark wearing pants, we got another phone call.
It turns out one guest was still on his way, our friend Mark Anbinder. Though he wasn’t all that close to our apartment, he wasn’t nearly as far as we were at the park. And, since we have taken to the habit of leaving our door unlocked in our mostly senior-citizen apartment complex, there was nothing keeping him from walking in, grabbing the pants, and rushing them up to the park. He would be there only twenty minutes after the ceremony was supposed to start.
Twenty minutes! That’s not bad! Shoot, most of the weddings I’ve been to have been about twenty minutes late, anyhow! I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. This was going to work.
At this point, we had just arrived at the park. Liz handed the parking attendant the little permit that Mark and I had sent out with all of the invitations, waiving the parking fee for our guests. As we pulled in to the parking lot preparing to dash into the Old Mill building a short distance from the reception pavilion, we saw that a lot of guests were still standing around in the parking lot. We needed a giant “AVERT YOUR EYES – BRIDE APPROACHING!” sign. Instead, we had the sheet that was being used to keep my white dress from getting snagged or muddied on the car. The quick-thinking bridesmaids jumped out of the car and stretched it, wall-like, between me and the crowd of people as we ran, very carefully, into the building to wait for the ceremony. I was giggling.
Once we were settled in the small room in which we had chosen to wait, I finally relaxed. Or, more accurately, became a little more relaxed. I was getting married in less than half an hour, there was no way I would completely unwind. This dress thing was new to me; I hadn’t worn a formal dress since high school prom, and even that was nothing compared to the strapless A-line gown I found myself in. Still, I had chosen well, and the dress was about as comfortable as a wedding dress could be. I couldn’t sit down, of course… even if there had been chairs in this museum-like room celebrating the Civilian Conservation Corps, the bustle on the dress was too intimidating for sitting. The room had a window, and I used it to glare at the sky one final time. Still cloudy…. but dry. The wedding should have started by this point, and I worried that, because of the 20 minute pants delay, we would push the ceremony back into rain.
Before I could worry long, though, people started coming in to see me. First some random tourists who were surprised to find a decked-out bride on their tour of old mill equipment, and then the judge and wedding photographer. The judge, who we had previously met and liked very much, had popped in to give us an update on the events unfolding outside, and to make sure I was calm and happy. I liked him. Then the photographer said that my little brother, Ryan, whom I hadn’t seen in over a year, wanted to know if it was okay to come see me. Of course!
Ryan and I look a whole lot like each other, except that he’s taller, skinner, and a whole lot better looking (Mark might not agree). He came in and gave me an enormous hug, and started talking about how thrilled he was to see Mark and I getting married, and how beautiful he thought I looked. I started tearing up, and I think the photographer was a little misty-eyed, too. My brother is quite the sweetheart.
He would be walking me down the aisle, so we decided that it made sense for him to stay with us when we proceeded to the hidden back entrance to the ceremony meadow. We all stood around, the bridesmaids, the photographer, my brother and I, and I wished that I had taken Liz up on her suggestion of sparkling wine before the ceremony. Probably would have been against park rules, anyhow.
Finally, Lesley came to tell us that the time had come, that we were to start walking to the ceremony in two minutes. I was excited to the point that I was shaking a little, but in a good way. My heart, if you’ve been following its movements, was now in my throat.
The moment we stepped outside, the sun came out. It was 2 o’clock on August 7th, and the weather was dry and sunny.
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Mine was really late too. My father-in-law took his daughter and son (flower girl and mini-usher, respectively) out to the park to wear them out before the wedding so that they would be compliant during their walks down the aisle. He forgot to bring them back until the last minute, though, and they barely had time to get dressed. As a result, my flower girl.
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The seven of us walked up the path to the ceremony spot, faster than Kate had estimated that morning. I was feeling more mobile in my dress than I had expected. The photographer was snapping lots of photos as we walked, especially when we got to the point where the sheet would come, yet again, into play. After the paved access road, but before we actually walked up the short grassy path to the meadow’s entrance, we had to cut through a short overgrown muddy segment. Noticing this earlier in the day, the girls had grabbed an extra sheet from my linen closet and brought it with, so that it could be laid down over the mud and plants for me to walk over. It felt silly to have so much pomp and circumstance for a few small steps, but I was happy to have it once I was in my foofy dress and flimsy white ballet slippers.
Obstacles crossed, we reached the entrance to the meadow, where we would walk in and follow the treeline behind the audience for about fifty feet until we reached the aisle. The guests had probably seen us approaching through the trees, though we were mostly obscured, but they couldn’t see us now. Buckets of flowers, bought by Sujata at the Farmer’s Market that morning, were waiting for us at the entrance. The flowers were absolutely stunning… I hadn’t given them much guidance in what I wanted, since I don’t really know much about flowers, but these were perfect. For the bridesmaids, four huge yellow bunches of wildflowers, neatly tied. For me, an impossibly larger and even denser collection of purples, blues, reds, and greens. I had thought about hiding a Kleenex in the bouquet, as suggested on all those wedding websites for sudden teariness, but there’s no way I could have fit even a single tissue in there.
And then the time had come. After some hurried whispers, we followed the plan that we had rehearsed the night before. Alison stepped out and walked slowly out to beyond where we could see her. A few seconds later, Anna followed. Then Liz, then Kate…..
And then, with my heart racing and my stomach in knots and a giddy smile on my face, it was my turn. I took Ryan’s arm, and we slowly, carefully, walked out into the meadow.
Seventy faces immediately turned to watch. It was as though a field of sunflowers had just realized where the sun was. Never had I had so many people focused so intently on me. It was exhilarating and weird. There were lots of crazy emotions that day.
Ryan and I continued on our careful walk through the grass, focused mainly, I think, on not tripping over my dress or getting caught on a branch (so romantic, I know). And then we reached the aisle. We paused for a moment.
I saw Mark standing under the chuppah. I wanted to run up and give him a huge hug. He had a big grin on his face… he had never seen the dress before, not to mention me with my hair all done up.
I had been wondering how I would feel at that moment, standing, poised, ready to walk down the aisle. At the rehearsal the night before, I became teary-eyed just going through the motions in our backyard, both times we did it. But when the moment finally came, I was so overcome with joy that laughter seemed like a more likely response. The sun was streaming through the trees, covering the meadow with a gorgeous dappled light, and I was looking out over all of our closest friends and family. My almost-husband was standing with the judge, giving me the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, and it was all just too perfect, too happy for any tears.
The band struck up a processional march, or so I’m told, because I wasn’t hearing anything. Ryan and I started our slow, careful walk down the aisle runner, heading closer and closer to the chuppah and Mark. As we started, a few people in the audience stood up, then a few more, and as people quickly realized, everyone stood. It was exhilarating seeing practically everyone we’ve ever met surrounding us, big smiles on their faces, some dabbing at tears.
Finally we reached the front, where Ryan gave me a big hug and sat down.
I could barely restrain myself from giving Mark a big squeeze. I think we might have held hands for a moment.
The band stopped playing, and the judge welcomed everyone. I admired Mark’s boutonniere. Mark’s parents got up to read a blessing they had written themselves. It was beautiful. When they finished, Lesley got up to read a touching and humorous piece about the theme of the wedding – two streams coming together into one, like the two streams joining around our reception site.
After that was the lighting of the unity candle, a small pillar candle in a glass holder flanked by two tealights in smaller glass holders. It was very cool, and very us. We used our taper candles to take the flame from our individual candles and light the larger center candle together, leaving the individual candles burning.
Next was the actual exchange of vows. With huge smiles on our faces, Mark and I listened as the judge read the marriage service to the crowd.
“Friends, we are gathered together here in the presence of this company, to join this man and this woman in the bonds of Matrimony, which is an honorable estate and is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, and soberly.
Into this estate, these two persons present come to be joined. If any person can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”
No one said anything. There might have been some chuckles.
“Mark Bogdanoff, will you have this woman as your wedded wife, to live together in the ordinances and estate of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and health; and, forsaking all others, keep you only unto her, so long as you both do live?”
Mark, looking thrilled, said, “I will.”
My skin tingled.
“Aja Regall, will you have this man as your wedded husband, to live together in the ordinances and estate of Matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and health; and, forsaking all others, keep you only unto him, so long as you both do live?”
Still tingling, I happily said, “I will.”
Mark and I squeezed hands again, beaming at each other. A few people in the audience dabbed at their eyes.
The judge asked for the rings.
Mark’s face fell.
“Um” he said, “The rings are in the car!”
Everyone erupted in laughter, including Mark and I. It was just too perfect, after the pants debacle. Of course the rings had been forgotten in all the hubbub.
After a moment’s pause, the judge decided to carry on, and do the ring exchange later. Just as he was about to speak, Mark’s mom stood up from the front row and handed Mark her ring and Roger’s ring, for us to use for the ceremony. More laughter, especially from us. You couldn’t ask for a more appropriate wedding for Mark and I.
So we continued on, with rings this time.
“Inasmuch as Mark and Aja have consented together in wedlock and have witnessed the same before this company, and thereto have pledged, each to the other, and have declared the same by the joining of hands; I, in accordance with the authority vested in me by the law of the State of New York, pronounce that they are Husband and Wife.”
I think everyone started applauding, but I don’t remember. Mark and I kissed, and Ryan got up to "read" a blessing that I had misplaced. Though he had to come up with something on the spot, he did a great job, and everyone was just beaming by the end of it. Then the band struck up recessional music, and it was time to go. Mark and I held hands and walked together down the aisle, passing again all of the happy faces of our friends and family.
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I can never go to weddings without getting teary eyed. Apparently I can't read about them either. Posts: 4655 | Registered: Jan 2002
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After a bit of milling around in the meadow, we headed down the stairs to the next meadow for a group photo. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hassle to get 70 people in one picture, but I’m already glad I requested it. I love group photos.
Once the deed was done, Mike announced that everyone who wasn’t going to be in the family photos was welcome to start the reception down at the pavilion. We worked through the small list of combinations I’d given to the photographer (I really worked on keeping this list small, but it still took a while) as the clouds rolled in. Hey, great soft light for pictures of faces!
When the family and bridesmaid/groomsperson photos finally finished, Mark, the photographer, and I headed down the short gorge trail for more photos near the incredible waterfalls and carved rock. I hope these pictures turn out well, because we totally lost track of time in there, and took way too long! It was great getting some quiet time with Mark, though.
When we got back to the pavilion, the party was in full swing. It had occurred to us before the wedding that we might need someone to reserve a plate of food for us, but no, there was plenty for everyone. We had ordered a variety of little hors d’oeuvres from our favorite bagel place/caterer, but we had no idea what an enormous quantity of food would arrive. The length of four picnic tables was covered with platter upon platter of delicious-looking treats, from quiche to dolmades to brie en croute. And, again, if anyone even noticed there wasn’t any meat, I certainly didn’t hear about it. To our left as we entered the pavilion’s enclosed room was the wedding “cake”, a tower of various kinds of cupcakes. Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized that, of course, it would look like plain old dessert to everyone else, so there had been some pilfering… hehe. But there were still plenty left, so hey, no problem.
The band was playing some merry Irish tunes on the porch, and the majority of the crowd was outside enjoying the wonderful weather. The case of various Finger Lakes wine, and the two cases of Ommegang beer, were very popular. No one seemed to mind serving themselves, and the display looked great. Lesley’s daughter had done a wonderful job decorating with the little flower pot candy favors Lesley’s other daughter had created (yay, Lesley’s daughters!!), and there was a general feeling of happy contentment in the air.
Every time Mark and I stopped moving for more than 5 seconds, a horde of people would swarm in with cameras, snapping away. We felt, for a brief few hours, what it would be like to be famous. The band was doing an excellent job with the music, and though Mark and I hadn’t planned on dancing, we sort of started swinging around to the music…. You have to understand that Mark and I are not dancers. Especially not me. When people say, oh, don’t worry, just relax and you’ll be fine, they’re wrong. I’m not fine. I’m Elaine.
But…. we were giddy with the excitement of it all, and even though we had no idea what to do to an Irish jig, we sort of spontaneously started dancing to the music. And it wasn’t embarrassing at all. Later, when we had whirled to a stop, one of the guys in the band started singing, a capella and alone, a love song about a girl from County Claire. It was captivating.
We gathered everyone together to witness the cutting of the (cup)cake(s), which was sort of cute… Mark, thank goodness, ignored the calls from the audience to smash it in my face! Feeding each other was awkward, but amusing. At least I had finally managed to calm down enough to eat something.
After a few hours of mingling, dancing, nibbling, and enjoying the company of our fabulous guests, we were ready to go catch our breath. Mark’s sister Lara and her new husband Steve (whose wedding we went to just a year ago!) quietly put all of the pretty gifts into their car. When we had gathered as many people as we could (several people had wandered off to check out the gorge trail we’d recommended), we dashed off under the white balloon arch and were driven away, off into the… well, it was a little early for a sunset, but whatever it was, it was gorgeous.
Lara and Steve dropped us off at our apartment, where we had decided to relax for several hours. Or, at least, that had been the plan…
Only half an hour after we got back to the apartment, barely time to change and catch our breaths, we headed out to our second party of the day, a family dinner at the house of Mark’s parent’s friends.
Posts: 1681 | Registered: Jun 2004
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I feel so girly, but a part of me is rubbing her hands together muttering, "Oooh, I would want to have that at my wedding."
Posts: 1892 | Registered: Mar 2002
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(Okay, we're definitely winding down to the least exciting stuff, but just to be thorough....)
Though it wasn't the quiet evening of Thai takeout (we had a coupon!) that I'd expected, the last-minute family dinner at Tim and Linda's house was a great idea. We grabbed some of extra bottles of Ommegang beer from the wedding and walked on over to their house, conveniently about half a mile from our apartment. It was nice being able to enjoy the wonderful weather alone with Mark on the way over, dressed in my more sitting-friendly khaki pants and sweater. I'd left my crazy up-do and tiara in place, of course. I was Gap Fabulous.
We stayed at Tim and Linda's for over three hours, longer than we'd planned, but we were having a great time. It was a good chance to share some quieter time with just our families before they'd need to leave the next day. The food was excellent, too... I'd finally worked up an appetite now that the wedding itself had passed, and dinner was a variety of yummy sides and a chicken cooked on the grill (with a tofu and veggie dish for Mark). There was an artichoke dip that was the subject of much hoarding, as well. I loves them artichokes!
We were given several wonderful gifts, including a gorgeous handmade cribbage board that we've had our eyes on for a long time, which Mark's sister Pam had bought the day before. Apparently Mark's family had wandered into one of the local craft stores on the Commons, and she'd noticed how much he'd liked it and bought it when he wasn't looking. Of course, there was also an incident involving a certain pair of rat earrings.... but that's a different story. :-D
Finally, though, we had to get going... we were popular people, after all! Back at the apartment where several of the bridesmaids were sleeping, a wedding after-party was getting started.
When we arrived at the after-party, it was packed. While we had been on-the-go and chatting in the hours since the wedding, all of our friends had been kicking back and napping. Thus, as we were getting pretty tuckered out by 11 o'clock, they were just waking up! I probably looked pretty out of it as I struggled to stay awake, but hey, this was pretty good for me.
Someone had grabbed the leftover cupcakes from the reception, and they were out for snacking in the dining room. Kate and Dan had the great idea to save two of the cupcakes in their freezer, something I hadn't thought of but will definitely appreciate on our first anniversary. Mmm, year-old cupcakes.
We had a great time getting a chance to hang out with so many of our friends. Now that everyone has graduated and moved on, we never get a chance to see them all in the same place. It got me thinking that it would be a pity to let the wedding be the only time we get everyone together.... why couldn't we all meet up again later?
After a series of hilarious toasts (some of which were approaching bachelor-party territory!), Mark and I walked home. I spent half an hour pulling bobbie pins out of my hair, and then crashed. After a long and exhilarating day, we finally fell asleep at 3 o'clock in the morning.
The next day, we were up at a luxurious 7:30am, thanks to the alarm, and got ourselves over to the Sunday farmer's market for brunch and one last goodbye to the people who had travelled to Ithaca. It was a gorgeous day for sitting out on the dock, nibbling on various treats from the food vendors, and enjoying everyone's company. Eventually, though, we had to see everyone off, get ourselves back home, and start preparing for the next big adventure.... the honeymoon!
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Hehe, at that point, I really couldn't care less. If you'd asked me that day if anything went wrong at the wedding, I would have said absolutely not. It was perfect. Posts: 1681 | Registered: Jun 2004
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This is my favorite! I love the picture of the two of you feeding each other cake, too! What a happy couple!
Posts: 1777 | Registered: Jan 2003
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I know we don't really know each other but I was sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for you to post more of your story as it was coming in. I absolutely loved reading about it. The pictures just make it that much better.
Posts: 378 | Registered: Aug 2004
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Inspired by Dan's stories of adopting Sasha, I've been writing down everything I can remember. Mostly for myself to read 10 years from now, but if anyone's curious.....
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