Happily Exhausted

I sit here by my home computer, my eyes heavy with tiredness. I debated blogging tonight. I'm pretty exhausted, and not 100% mindful right now. But I wanted to capture the now, the raw emotion. So I sit and begin to write.
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This weekend was our family engagement party, where relatives from both sides flew, drove, or trained in to celebrate our pending nuptials at my aunt and uncle's house last night. It was so wonderful. And when I just typed my last sentence, I felt frustrated. Wonderful doesn't capture it. Amazing. Touching. Unforgettable. There's something truly special celebrating with both the people I've known my whole life, and with the people I've grown so close to over Dan and my years together. And having them--Dan's family and my family--begin to form strong bonds with one another. So I'm signing off now, to relax and prepare the mundane after the sublime: Monday morning.

Planning Apart

This post is the first in the series by guest writers, people whose wedding experiences and perspectives are different than my own. Read below to hear of my friend Jennifer's story planning her wedding with her groom-to-be was stationed overseas.

I recently returned from my baby brother’s wedding in Berkeley – he and his bride put on a very personal, personable event, and it was a joy to see him marry someone so unflinchingly right for him. He & I have always been close, and I’ve become good friends with his girlfriend – now wife – over the years as well. This was especially the case as we planned our respective weddings, as each of us did so solo while our future spouses were studying or stationed overseas during most of the planning phase. So seeing them bring their plans to fruition has naturally had me thinking again about my own wedding planning experience.

My husband proposed about four weeks before he left for a 5-month overseas rotation, and we got married a month after he returned. Was it easier making all of the decisions and arrangements more or less on my own? Yes. Was it harder? Yes. Did things go more smoothly having a single person as the sole performer of research, tester of cakes, designer of invitations? Yes. Was it also a rockier ride having no back-up? Yes. Did I feel close to him, attuned to the emotional import of the event, something to reflect our love for each other and our values? Yes. Did I feel like I was planning a wedding for one, something that was to meet a certain feel & vision (mine), regardless of its content? Yes. Did I love my role as planner? Yes. Did I resent it monstrously? Oh yes.

Let me explain. Very likely, these are poles that all prospective brides – and who knows, maybe grooms – shift between, one way or another; but the long distance factor certainly exacerbated them for me. Moving through the checklists & timelines focused my attention away from worrying about him, and the fact of the wedding was a very real reward looming at the end of my husband’s deployment. But at times, planning for it was also one more burden to bear while he was away, on top of his away-ness & the drudgeries of day-to-day life (“You mean I have to take out the garbage every week *and* plan this epic event?”). Phone calls were few & far between. Discussing wedding details & decisions was tremendously helpful sometimes, insofar as it turned our attention away from the difficulty of the instant (“This is hard – I miss you – are you safe?”) & toward something positive and light. Yet of course it also felt spectacularly shallow at times (“Riots, violence, whatever – I’m thinking that the flowers should be peachy-orange and soft green, not yellowy-orange”). It was a difficult balance to strike at times – consulting him & keeping him in the loop, yet not overburdening him with minutiae, and knowing when to move ahead even if I hadn’t had his input. (I’m not talking just aesthetic decisions, of course, but also financial questions, and potentially touchy issues of family politics – yow!) More important, and sometimes more difficult, was knowing when to not even touch on the wedding in a phone call or email, and simply ask what I could about his experiences, his concerns, the distressing or uplifting sight he may have seen that day.

Ultimately, I tried to bear in mind that working on our wedding in a reflective, meaningful way – planning the sort of event that we would both relish – was a concrete way of expressing my investment in our relationship at a time when I couldn’t necessarily invest in the usual ways. I’m positive that my husband appreciated it, because he said so often & enthusiastically, and because he loved what came out of that planning. But of course I’d be stretching the truth if I said I had this elevated mindset all of the time. Sometimes it was just fun – that giddy, intoxicating “O my god I just *love* this dress” feeling that is the sole purview of a bride-to-be, and sometimes just a pure and simple, well, pain in the ass.

Back to my brother & sister-in-law. During the course of many a wine-tinged phone call, she shared just these feelings about her own planning process with me (as I had with her). And they too had a lovely, quirky, memorable weekend of it – as do most brides & grooms, or so my experience has been. So being a long-distance bride is yes, a factor in how the wedding comes to fruition, but not so fundamental a one as knowing & loving your partner well, or bearing in mind the joyousness of the occasion.

Bananagramers

On Sunday morning, Dan and I were back at Big Bear, eating bagels and drinking lattes. Only this time we had our new game with us: bananagrams. A word game similar to boggle or scrabble, all the letter tiles fit inside a yellow banana-shaped case. Sitting at the counter, we spilled all the letters out onto the hard wood, and turned them face down. (Yes, the barista was staring--but only because he was curious. Big Bear is one of those places where you really can whip out board games). After we each picked 21 words, we raced against each other to see who could create a group of intertwining words (like a scrabble board) the fastest. Each time one of us turned our letters into complete, coherent, dictionary-approved words, the person would shout "peal" and both of us would delve into the pool of letters and pick another tile. It's a fast-paced game, and so we were deeply concentrated on our tiles and seeing what words could be made out of them. Only occassionally we'd sip our stevia-sweetened drinks and take bites into our bagel-and-cream cheese sandwiches. It was a clear beautiful day, and even though we were inside, the giant windows gave us a great view of the outdoors. A perfect way to relax from all the wedding planning and just be.

Registration Exhilaration

On a wet, rainy Saturday afternoon, I found myself inside a department store, debating between square and round griddles and other such conundrums. Eyes intently pealed, I was armed and ready--at a moment's notice--to aim the scanner at a certain target. When I would press the yellow button, the bright red scanning light would make contact with the bar code. A beeping sound would chirp when the scanner successfully uploaded the item's information onto our online registration. Whenever I heard that noise, I squealed. Finding each item and adding it to the registry has a sense of satisfaction. A decision made. I have to admit: in my three in-store registering sessions, plus a few more Internet browses, I've gotten quite the hang of it. Five months ago, I couldn't have named all the different pots and pans. Now I can describe the difference between nonstick, stainless steel, copper plated, and full out copper. After looking at a few types of napkin rings on my last venture, I've been noticing them everywhere...I'm sure they existed before, but my untrained eye couldn't pick them up.
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Registering is creating a giant wishlist. It's practical--I often head to other people's when I am buying gifts. The online component makes it easier for both giver and recipient. It's also fun to roam around the store, choosing between different plates and picture frames. But as I was registering and in looking back on it today, I have a sense of nostalgia. Not for another event in which I registered, because there is no such event, but for when I was a young child and just the idea of presents was exhilarating. I remember, eagerly waiting to rip off multi-colored wrapping paper and see what gifts lay inside. The waiting period would start weeks, sometimes even months before, wondering what my parents would surprise me with. That time was pure anticipation, as I would try to guess what presents I would get. Registering has a more grown-up feel, not only the gifts themselves (I wasn't too into copper plated pots as a child), but the process of picking the presents. Both approaches are fun. But as I write this now, remembering that excitement of gifts as a child, a smile spreads across my face. A childish grin.

A Hairy Endeavor

This weekend, as I was looking over the glossy pages of bridal magazines, a picture of one bride caught my eye. Her bridal costume was complete with her long, wavy-curly hair, pulled up half-way. Her hair was long, falling down to her shoulder blade. I liked the look. It was sharp and romantic at the same time. I glanced at my own curly locks after that viewing the page for a few moments. Hmmm. I could do this. My hair has never crossed past my shoulders--let alone shoulder blades--and for most of my adult life it's been more at my chin. Every few months I think to let it grow long, but as the thick waviness (re: unruliness)begins to creep toward my back, I get frustrated with managing it and call the hair dresser. But maybe now, I could grow it long! I've heard that once you get past the awkward length somewhere between the shoulder and shoulder blade, long hair is easier to style. So, I will try. Even if I don't go for the half-up cascading look, other brides have told me that longer hair equals more options come wedding day. One thing that will hopefully help me stick to this plan is that, post-wedding, I want to chop it back to chin length and donate my cut hair to Locks of Love, an organization that makes wigs for children who have lost their hair because of illness. I have wanted to participate in Locks of Love since my college days, but for reasons mentioned above, my hair has never reached the 10 inch minimum. Think I can do it?.....

Still Hearing the Music

So, last night after I posted my entry, Dan and I did an extensive review of our the band's Web site. Even though it was closing in on 11:30 pm, we played some of their music on the computer, and starting dancing to the hits of the 80s, 90s, and today. Super exciting! It feels a little unreal, moving to the groove of your wedding band in your pajamas. Or sorting through band's repertoire of songs and when you know you have work the next day. After we turned off the computer and went to bed, I started thinking about how my wedding picture was emerging. Sure, right now we're in our PJs, dancing bearfeet, but before you know it, we'll be in our finest, dancing at our wedding, smelling the flowers we picked out and drinking the wine we ordered. And what's amazing is that even as the pieces get filled in, the parts come together, you'll never really know how it is until it's right in front of you! A wedding is not the sum of its parts...it's a whole new creation. It's scary and exciting because you don't know what to expect.

Musical Lessons

So, good news: We heard a band we love. Or, should I say, Dan heard a band. The band search abounds with lessons learned, so read along with pen and paper in hand. It began around 6 weeks ago, when my parents recommended one musical ensemble for us to hire. Dan and I traveled to the 6th and I Synagogue to hear them play at a wedding. We liked them, but decided to look around. To be honest, I wasn't completely sure I wanted to scout out more options. The band would have been good. And with so many other things to think about--wedding-related and other--I thought, lazily, about giving up the search. But I'm glad we didn't. On Sunday night, Dan drove out to the boon docks to hear another band play (why I didn't come along is coming...keep reading), and called me from my girls-weekend away (aha! the reason. but wait. there's more.) to absolutely rave about their songs, their performers, and their performance that night. I was thrilled. And glad we weren't lazy. I was going to accompany him on this sojourn deep into Virginia territory, and Saturday night we were all set to go. I was even in one of my nicer dresses, as not to stand out as the one person not actually invited to the wedding, but just going along to hear the band. But as we went to enter the address into our beloved GPS system, we realized we had read the date wrong. It was actually Sunday. So, I went off with the girls for a relaxing bonding Labor Day, and Dan listened to the band play.