My second (and final!) wedding!

Is there a perfect wedding?

Only if you accept the fact that it won’t be perfect.

Me with my wedding doll, Debbie

Weddings…the event every girl waits for, plans and dreams of…. I should know. I planned my perfect wedding. Well, almost perfect.

My parent’s wedding pictures looked perfect.

Thinking about my big event brings tears to my eyes, and I don’t mean tears of joy.

“Can’t we just elope?” my fiancé, now husband of 23 years, pleaded. “I hate weddings.”

I wasn’t beneath pleading. “I want this to be the wedding of my dreams. We can afford it – we’re both doing well financially, and it really means so much to me. My first marriage was such a disaster. I want this one to be so special. It doesn’t have to be large…I just want bridesmaids and a pretty dress.”

“I don’t want to wear a tux…” he moaned. He’s a rancher. His normal attire: 501 jeans, tennis shoes, tee shirt and baseball cap.

“Please?” I was not beneath begging, but didn’t know how to bat my eyes.

“Okay, okay. I’ll wear a tux if you only have one bridesmaid.”

“Three?” I cajoled. I only had one the first time.

He caved. Whatever I wanted was fine with him. Just as long as the wedding stayed small. He didn’t want a church full of people watching him.

Yes! I had free rein of the event. “We” chose a beautiful landmark church and decided to have his father, the county judge, marry us.

My guest list wasn’t long. After all, my family and friends were thousands of miles away in Florida and Minnesota.

However, we went through the entire phone book inviting his family and friends. “I thought you wanted it small?” I remarked. He claimed there were too many people who would be hurt if he didn’t invite them.

Two hundred and fifty invitations later, his aunts, his mother and I finally finished addressing, licking and stamping. Thirty of them were mine.

Thousands of dollars later, the reception food was ordered. At twenty-five dollars per tray, I picked my hors d’oeuvres carefully.

I ordered a huge chocolate cake with raspberry filling, lots of champagne and an open bar for beer and wine.

Airplane tickets were expensive, so, I asked two girlfriends in Minnesota to be my bridesmaids because I knew they were able to get free passes. My future sister-in-law would be my third.

My husband- to-be asked his brothers to stand up with him, since his friends hated being in weddings. Only later did we learn that his friends’ feelings were hurt. They wanted to be in his wedding – go figure.

All my girlfriends were strapped for money, so I bought their gowns and shoes. I ordered floor length dresses made of rustling silk in a beautiful teal color. I could hardly wait for everyone to try them on.

Finally the store called…the dresses were here!

Me with my girlfriend Susan

We made a party of it – three of my girlfriends and my daughter, who was four years old. One of my girlfriends brought her two children along, too. It was a zoo. The kids were tearing around the dressing rooms like maniacs.

I could hardly get my little monster to try hers on. “Now can I take it off and go play Mom, please? We want to go play in the dressing rooms.”

“Mine’s too short. It will have to be lengthened.” my girlfriend complained.

“There’s not enough hem to have it lengthened.” The sales lady explained.”It really looks fine. You’ll just have to wear flat shoes.”

I loved the way the dress looked on her.

“I look terrible in flat shoes. I only wear high heels.” Cathy wailed.

“Mom, can I take mine off now?” I nodded.

Me in my college roommate’s wedding.

“Mine is okay. I don’t like the color on me, though.” Now it was my other girlfriend’s turn to complain.

“It looks beautiful on you, with your dark hair.” I answered. Susan, my other girlfriend who had joined the party, agreed.

“I don’t like green, though. Can we change the color?” Lynda asked.

“Yes, let’s just order new dresses, then mine will be long enough.” Cathy chimed in, on possibly the first thing they had ever agreed on.

What had started out as a fun day was turning into a nightmare. Maybe I could just trade in my girlfriends instead of the dresses….

Okay, okay, I concede. They are kindof dated dresses…but hey, I never was a fashionista – that’s why I was a pilot instead of a flight attendant!!

Susan, wasn’t in the wedding. She, of course, thought everything looked perfect.

“Look.” I said, “The wedding is too close to go looking for new dresses. I think they look great, and it’s my wedding.” Now I was getting upset.

“So do I.” Susan added. The other two girls glared at her.

“But we’re the ones who have to wear these.” Cathy and Lynda said in unison.

“But I’m the one paying for them, and its my wedding, so what does it matter?” I asked, perplexed, hurt and tired.

They finally acquiesced, and we went shopping for shoes next.

My girlfriend Cathy had no children, and at the moment, she didn’t want any. The kids were driving her crazy. She left immediately after choosing a pair of flat shoes that she obviously hated.

A week later, my husband’s sister wasn’t much different when she tried on her dress a few weeks later. “It puckers kind of funny, don’t you think?”

“I think it just needs ironing.” I answered.

“I think it would look better as a short dress, off the shoulder, don’t you?” she asked.

“No, I like them long and on. The wedding is in November, and it will be cold…”

“Oh well, I’ll just have mine cut off after the wedding. Then maybe I can wear it again. Do Cathy and Lynda like theirs?” she asked.

“Cathy thinks hers is too short, and Lynda doesn’t like the color.” I said wearily. “It’s too close to the wedding to change dresses.” I added forcefully.

Mary didn’t say another word. There must have been something about my tone of voice….

My Aunt Jane

I chose a beautiful gown of pearls and lace with a long train. The skirt was full and the sleeves were long. I found a hat exactly like the one I saw in the magazine. My girlfriend Susan agreed that the outfit was perfect.

“What? You’re not getting married in a white dress, are you?” my mother asked, horrified.

“Well, I didn’t really think it mattered…” I protested feebly.

“But you’ve been married before! You can’t wear white!”

“Mom, this is different. Being married before was like a bad dream…a nightmare, in fact. We had a simple backyard wedding. I want this one to be formal and it is his first marriage.”

She gave me the look. I changed the color to ivory.

My college roommate had trouble with her mom over her dress, too.
My parents all dressed up! No, Mom didn’t wear black to my wedding. :)

Finally, the night before the big day arrived. To say that the house was crowded isn’t even close. It was jammed, with kids running everywhere. Thirty of us trying to get ready in a tiny house with one bathroom.

The rehearsal dinner was worse than the dress fiasco.

My girlfriend’s little boy wouldn’t let anyone sit at “his” table. He screamed and kicked until his father threatened him with his life if he didn’t straighten up.

The rest of the kids weren’t much better. All five of them ended up asleep in a pile under the table of presents before dinner even arrived.

My niece-to-be was upset that our rehearsal dinner fell on the night of her birthday. She had wanted a party of her own.

The next day, my bridesmaids had a heated discussion over whether to wear the dresses off the shoulder or on. They drank two bottles of champagne without me and decided definitely off. At that point I didn’t care if they went naked.

This shot just cracks me up. Kind of explains everything.

My maid-of-honor’s husband threatened to throw my other girlfriend’s little boy out of the car on the way to the wedding and he meant it.

St. Peters looking up!

But the setting was beautiful, and I still love the old St. Peters Landmark Church in The Dalles.

St. Peters Landmark
Our pictures still looked happier than some of the older ones…

Our families were taking so many pictures that their strobes threw off the photographer’s light meter. All our y wedding pictures were very dark and grainy.

I  hunted everywhere and finally found the perfect blown-glass cake topper with double hearts and swans. I even managed to get it to Oregon from Minnesota, undamaged.

The baker and the balloon lady were both running late. They bumped into each other and a small war ensued. My hearts and swans died in battle….

wedding flowers

I worried about the flowers. The florist, Kevin’s cousin Phyllis, had warned me that the simple Calla Lilies I had chosen did not always arrive in the best of shape and that she might have to substitute at the last moment.

But the flowers were beautiful. Phyllis brought extra corsages, and we needed them all. I had miscounted. Phyllis quickly decorated the top of the cake with flowers, too.

As usual, what you worry about isn’t what goes wrong.

At lest I wasn’t pregnant at my wedding…neither was my mom. But she is pregnant with my brother, Jim, in this picture.

Halfway up the aisle during the ceremony, my little girl stopped to talk to her friend. “My mom says we can use my dress to play Cinderella after the wedding!” She chortled, as the music played. And played. And played.

The impatient ring bearer stomped his feet impatiently. “Girls!” He loudly proclaimed.

Later, during the ceremony, my daughter sat down on my childless girlfriend’s feet, partly under her dress. Everyone in the church could see my Darcie’s underwear as she sucked her thumb while smoothing the silk of her dress on her cheek.

The food at the reception ran out within the first hour.

My daughter and her little friends stole most of the laced chocolate decorations off the cake before anyone caught them.

Kids don’t care what music is being played!

The deejays refused to play the songs I had chosen until after the older people left the reception. They were afraid no one in our small town would hire them if they played music by groups like The Beach Boys and The Eagles! I know I won’t hire them again.

The good news:

No one fell down the steep steps of the church.

No one knew of any reason not to join us as man and wife.

My parents

My husband didn’t mash the cake into my face or spill champagne when we linked arms for the toast.

Colt was the ring bearer for my brother and his wife. He was so afraid he would drop the ring in their pool!

There were no fistfights or other catastrophes.

Colt didn’t drop the ring or fall in.

Our sports car was a mess, but no permanent damage was done – just tin cans and soap.

Darcie helped decorate my brother’s car at his wedding.

The honeymoon was marvelous…except for our sunset dinner cruise off the coast of Maui – airline meals on plastic plates weren’t what we had in mind.

And best of all, my girlfriends are still my friends!  (until they read this story…)

Perhaps the best thing about my “dream wedding” is that we both know that we will never have to go through the ordeal again….

The end…or the beginning?!