Once in August We Said “I Do”

Once in August, we said, “I do.”

Weddings and marriages are funny. How often do you see a celebrity lavishly pour out a million dollars on a wedding, and everyone is oohing and aaahing over it, KNOWING that marriage probably won’t even last.

Our wedding was beautiful.

Well, I thought so anyway. It was no celebrity affair, but it fit me, with a touch of Alan. Everything was simple and pretty and stuffed to the brim with guests.

Before Alan proposed, I had never stopped to think about what kind of wedding I wanted– not for two seconds. I never dreamed about my wedding. It just wasn’t something I ever thought about. I DID think about the groom, that part I was day dreaming about practically from birth. “Who will I marry?” must have been one of my earliest questions.

I even dreamed about my dream house, drawing out house plan after house plan. My plans were never for one or two or even four people, either. They always included rooms for extended family, like in Full House. I always wanted a house chock full of people, which is exactly what I have.

Alan proposed to me at Callaway Gardens over spring break his senior year and my junior year of college.

We mooned over our new engagement all the way home. This was before social media was invented. We emailed all of our friends to let them know the news that week from Alan’s parents’ living room desktop computer.

The minute we got back, Nonna (Alan’s mom) was excited to start talking about wedding plans. Uhhhh…ummmm… My family had never even discussed weddings or anything of the sort because I had never brought it up. I did not know anything about weddings. The only weddings I could even remember were ones I attended as a child.

I was the flower girl in one, and I was Amber’s maid of honor just the year before. Those were two very different weddings. One was a big church wedding, and that is all I remember about it. I was eight. Then Amber’s wedding was a small one of family and closest friends.

But I was very new to Alan’s family, and I was not about to admit that I was completely ignorant of the world of tulle and centerpieces. I did my best to nod along. Sure, who cares, whatever, I am getting married to Alan! So happy!!!

Suddenly, there I was with stacks of Bride magazines and a book on wedding etiquette, on loan from Nonna’s personal library.

It was fun and exciting, but I was like a deer in the headlights. “I don’t think my parents can afford a big wedding. Maybe we can get friends to do some of these things, and just have the wedding and reception at my church. I really have no idea how my parents will want to do all of this.”

My parents were not taken by surprise by the proposal. Alan asked Dad before he asked me. They set me a reasonable budget to stick to for the wedding, and we did our best. Looking back, I think the wedding turned out beautifully. I admittedly should have thought through the reception better. The room was a little small for 150 guests, but it was never meant to be a sit-down dinner. This was a casual reception in the fellowship hall of the church, and that was how I wanted it to be. Fussy and frilly and going all out was not my thing back then, nor did I have the money for that.

After our wedding, it seemed like the flood gates opened, and suddenly we were constantly going to weddings.

At the time I remember thinking, “If only these could have happened before mine! I could have copied so many ideas…”

But you know what? It is best that it did not happen that way. The way things actually happen is usually what is best. Our wedding was a reflection of just us, Alan and me. Well, truly, it was a reflection of me and my mom and Alan and his mom because when you get married at twenty-one and twenty-three, the mothers are heavily involved. It is a good thing too. Without our mothers’ input, you all could have been eating Guthries chicken fingers and drinking soda. Ha!!

One of my funniest memories is trimming Nonna’s guest list with Alan. We had to take a list of about three hundred down to one hundred for him and one hundred for me, or something like that, and that was pretty hilarious. It was reminiscent of that Father of the Bride movie. Alan was such a great sport about it all too. He knew I had my heart set on getting married in the church I grew up in, and he just trimmed away.

Before I knew I would be getting married that summer, I also had lined up a summer job as a camp counselor in Texas for myself, at a place called Pine Cove, or something like that. In May, I mentioned the camp to my mom, and she said I absolutely could not run off to camp and leave her to plan that whole wedding by herself, and I was like, “Ohhh… right. Okay, yes, that is fair.”

Ha! Mom had her hands full with me. I was so young and clueless, but it was never about the actual wedding day for me.

It was about the actual marriage. Alan and I agreed that when we said “forever” we meant “forever”. There was no pre-nup. We could not wait to start our life story together.

Someone once asked Ruth Graham if she ever considered divorcing Reverend Billy Graham, with how often he was gone. She had the best answer: “Divorce? No. Never. Murder, yes.”

I thought that was a squarely perfect and honest answer. Everyone wants to be that sweet old couple, but you have to cross through all the years of immaturity, growing, battles, and facing life together to get to those golden years.

We are in this for more than a beautiful wedding day. Our finish line is still too far away to even see. Even still, I enjoy day dreaming about it.

I may have day dreamed out loud one too many times because the boys are starting to ask, “When are we moving to Mom’s farm in Alabama??”

Oops…It is not a farm exactly I want, it is the peace and landscape, and yes, Alabama. Most importantly, stability is what I long for. My someday house does not pick up and move every two years to the next undisclosed location. It sits peacefully, at one with its surroundings. The people in this house always know who to list as their emergency contacts.

There is room for Alan to teach the boys to shoot and maybe even fish. It has ample outdoor space and a district zone for a few chickens and a small kitchen garden. In my imagination, I can magically not kill the plants, you see.

The church is not far away, and I can drive to my parents’ house in much less than a day. There is a school for each boy there that is just perfect for them. It is hot down there, but that is okay because we have one of those quick set pools. Alan won’t fuss about the pool killing the grass either because we are not going to need to sell the house in two years. We are there to stay for as long as we or the good Lord sees fit.

‘Til death do us part. I could not have done this adventure with anyone else.

The fun of it all was a big deal to me then, and it still is. At twenty-one, I did not want to buy my rural house in Alabama yet and settle down. What I wanted was to run away with this guy, and we did just that.

We honeymooned in Jamaica, and then I rode with him to his officer training in Oklahoma. Everything we saw was new and fun, from climbing Dunn’s River Falls to New York City. It has been one expedition after another, and I loved it.

I know I mentioned in my last post how many of the hardships really caught up with me this year. That is true. Alan went to Iraq for twelve months early on, then fifteen months a few years later, and then Afghanistan in 2011. We have moved far more than is sane, but with any journey, there are obstacles.

Life is a battle, but ours has been a thrilling one. It is true that I am so ready to be done with the moving, but I would not trade our road for any other. I love what God has blessed us with and what we have built together. It is such an honor and a joy to be a part of it.

Here’s to decades and decades more. I love you. We are greatly blessed.

“Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.”

James 1:17

I’m linking up with Finding Ninee today for Finish the Sentence Friday here. This week’s prompt is “Once in August”.