I Married The Easter Bunny – Part IX – The Wedding That Wasn’t

We were to be married in a beautiful Methodist church.  Since it was January, most of the Christmas flowers were still in the church and due to the color of the stained glass, the color of the flowers, various shades of pinks and white, coordinated with my chosen colors.  We were going to add some other things, but honest to God, I can’t remember what those things were going to be.

We got to the rehearsal and did it.  The only thing I remember was someone behind us yelling,  “WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!  YOU NEED TO SPEAK UP TOMORROW!”  I kid you not, that is all I can remember, and I have no idea who it was.  I don’t remember how I got to the rehearsal dinner.  I don’t remember who I sat with.  All I remember is that it was a pizza place, we had the party room and no one ordered me a plain cheese pizza.  At the time, the only pizza I would eat was plain cheese and everyone, EVERYONE who knew me, knew that and I was the Bride and no one got me anything that I wanted to eat.  I recall leaving, sort-of.  I don’t remember where Mark was.  I don’t remember saying goodbye to him.  To tell the truth, I don’t remember him even being there, even though I know he was.  One of my girls took me home after a loooong time of riding around and talking.  I don’t remember what we talked about.  I’m pretty sure I just downloaded everything I had been through over the last couple of months.

What I do remember is getting home and vomiting.  And then vomiting more. And again.  And again a few more times.  Pretty much all night long.  There was no way I was going to be able to get married the next day.  I called Mark in the morning and told him I couldn’t do it.  He offered to rent a wheelchair for me.  Carry me.  Have the reverend come over to the house.  I didn’t want to do those things. I looked horrible.  I felt horrible.  The last couple of months had traumatized me, the night before sucked and I was sick.  I still wanted to get married.  I still loved him, but I was not going to do it like that.  Everything about the lead up had sucked and the actual wedding was going to make me happy, not another level of miserable.  He was not happy with me.  My mother was thrilled and to be honest, although we have never discussed it, I’m pretty sure his parents were only sad that he felt bad.  His side called his people.  My parents called our people and some people we couldn’t get ahold of.  I personally called the friend’s mom who was supposed to provide the food and she said and I quote, ” Oh that’s ok.  I don’t even have anything started yet.  To be honest, I haven’t even bought the ingredients yet.”  My intuition was right about that one.  I called my DJ friend.  HE said, and I quote, ” Oh that’s ok.  I forgot and scheduled another gig for tonight and was trying to figure out how to be in two places at once.  This takes a HUGE load off.”  Check TWO for my intuition.  My mother called the cake people and they said they were loading it into their van right then, what did we want them to do?  Mom said deliver it here.  So they did.  Box after box after box of cake.  It took up half the living room.  It was freaking delicious.  Lesson to be learned?  Hire freaking professionals.  Had the wedding happened, we would’ve been listening to the radio and eating G-DAMN CAKE because my caterer and DJ would not have shown up!!

A couple of hours after I talked to him, Mark came and picked me up.  We went off alone and talked.  I told him that I still wanted to get married, but I couldn’t do it like that.  After everything that had happened and then being sick, I just couldn’t do it.  He said he’d have to think about it.  He took my ring and took me home.  What had been the worst eight months of my life just culminated in the worst twenty-four hours I had experienced.  Ever.

I Married The Easter Bunny Part VIII – The Planning

The very next day after blowing up at me for being engaged my mother quit trying to talk me out of it.  She wasn’t happy or particularly helpful, passive aggressive is probably an accurate term for her attitude.  To her credit, she only threw one more tantrum during the whole rest of the engagement.  When she asked when we planned to have the wedding and I told her October, she lost it.  It was only four months away, I’d miss Christmas etc, etc.  So I talked to Mark and we agreed to put it off til January.

The next few months should have been fun, but overall, they were not.  My parents offered to give us money and skip the wedding.  At first I agreed, re-arranged my plans, then changed my mind back.

No one seemed happy for us but us.  His side was unhappy because we didn’t want kids there and because we weren’t going to play country music.  There was a minor flap over the food and the location of the reception and I’m pretty sure they didn’t like my veil, which I showed them in an effort to include them in the bride side of things.  The rehearsal dinner was also an issue.  We wanted it one place, they wanted it another.  They won because they were paying and because they didn’t want to do something more or different from they had done for their other son.

Things were even worse on my side.  My parents didn’t want to spend any money.  I bought a pretty dress, but it wasn’t remotely anything that I really wanted.  The only place I could have my reception was the American Legion Hall that my Dad belonged to because they were going to let us have it steeply discounted.  I didn’t want to have it there.  It reeked of cigarette smoke and reminded me of a bunch of old guys sitting around playing cards and dying Easter eggs for the annual Legion egg hunt.  I don’t remember what we were going to decorate the hall or the church with, I only remember that I had to do it myself.  The morning of the wedding.   I made the bouquets and we did not hire a florist.  The mother of a friend of my husband’s ran a catering company and wanted to do the food as a gift.  My mother-in-law told them one thing, we wanted something else.  I talked to the mom and worked out a new menu, but I felt weird about it.  I didn’t really trust the whole thing.  A friend of mine was going to DJ for us, but he seemed to be blowing me off.  We agreed to everything and planned it all and then I never heard from him again.  When I called to confirm a few days before, he almost seemed to have forgotten.  I had to go over all the songs and timing and everything again and he seriously didn’t seem to know any of it.  Again, I felt weird about things and didn’t really trust the situation.

The only thing I really liked was my cake.  It was a huge multi-cake extravaganza with bridges and a lighted fountain and mounds of frosting flowers.  It was beautiful and cost more than my dress.

We went out and bought a cake topper, cutting knives, a guest book, garter and all the other paraphernalia a wedding needed, but everything felt wrong.  The girls would have beautiful dresses and the guys would be handsome in their tuxedos.  My mother made her dress.  She wouldn’t spend the money to buy one.  My mother-in-law wouldn’t wear a long dress.  No one, and I mean no one would cooperate.  Even when I tried to get my husband to help me, he just said whatever you want is fine.  Just do it and tell me when and where to show up.  None of it was fun and I was worried about all of it.  I was alone.

We should have taken the money and run, but I just had to have a wedding…