love and relationships

The Details


Wedding Dress

Image by LollyKnit via Flickr

So, we have gone from a small ceremony with just ourselves and our daughters to planning a wedding on location and with guests no less. And it makes me smile to think about it really because I can remember us not long ago joking about theme weddings in Vegas.

It doesn’t matter really. As long it is us. Rob and I. Our girls.

I bought a bride’s magazine the other day. It felt like an odd thing to do. At my age. Looking at “princess” gowns like a teenager getting ready for prom.

When I married Will, it was in a dress that I didn’t really like, wearing accessories that were better suited to my sister DNOS, who had picked them out, than myself. The ceremony was written by the Catholic church and the songs prescribed by them as well. The reception was old school with a sit down dinner and dancing afterwards. All I had wanted was my toes in the sand, a flowing, slightly sexy gown and white cake with sickeningly sweet thick icing.

This time I will have the mountains, and I have come to love them more and more, a very exotic Canadian who fulfills the sexy requirement more than just slightly, and a ceremony written by the province of Alberta.

I don’t know if Tool has ever written a wedding appropriate song, and I can’t eat cake anymore without making myself sick. And I don’t think the gown will be white much less princess-like.

Details. It’s a good thing I am marrying a Virgo*

 

*Rob planned the entire wedding really, I picked out a dress for me and a flower girl dress for Dee. I also arranged for the few flowers we needed. Mostly though – it was Rob. Interesting my late husband, Will, was also keen on wedding planning, the mark of an enthusiastic to be wed man though Rob did tell me that when he married his late wife, Shelley, he couldn’t have been less interested. He was just nineteen though and as he tells it, whenever pressed into wedding planner mode, he was more than willing to oblige her. (see How Do You Know)

Something New


An engagement ring.

Image via Wikipedia

I had a dentist appointment after school today. I loathe six month check ups. It is one of those left-over aversions from my teenage years when I couldn’t seem to go to the dentist without having to come back and have a cavity filled. I haven’t had a cavity in years. So many that I am tempted to say that I am probably in my second cavity-free decade now, but I still dread going. Just entering the office renders me nearly mute as I focus on stemming the tide of tension that builds slowly until the all clear is given after the final inspection of my not so pearly whites.

There was a new hygienist today. She  attempted to engage me in small talk which I still don’t understand really. Am I expected to reply, just nod, or make  sound effects?  Rob would find this line of thought amusing as he already thinks that I use sounds in place of real words so often anyway that why would I find the expectation of this cave person dialect an imposition?

She had a daughter who was 6’ 4”. I found this out after she commented on my height and wondered did I have a hard time finding pants that fit. I do. The world of trousers caters to the short(er). The conversation somehow wound it’s way to the daughter’s boyfriend, who is only 5’10”, and did I have a tall husband?

And I nearly said, “yes”.

Of course I don’t have a husband anymore, so I hesitated, stammered, and finally told the woman that my husband had died over a year ago. She apologized, as they always do, and then yammered on, but I had stopped paying attention for the moment. It was natural for this woman to assume I was married. I have a ring on my finger now. But, I thought of Rob first, not Will.

I had almost said, ‘Yes, my husband is nearly 6’ tall.”

Devils Den


The CCC overlook

The CCC overlook/Image via Wikipedia

There is so much to say and yet the hour is late for telling it all right now. I will tell it all, as much as I remember. I didn’t write it down as it occurred though I probably should have. I find that the most important moments of my life are often recounted retrospectively and are thus suspect for total accuracy.

I believe now however that I can safely add Arkansas to my list of the most romantic places on earth, and I don’t even think my now fiance would argue the point. Well, not much.

I can’t remember a better week. As my co-worker T. Pilcher would say, “Everyday is a festival!” Everyday in that cabin in Devils Den State park was that and more. The simplest things, like breakfast for instance, was something to be savored, prolonged, because it was just too wonderful to rush through.

Sometimes you forget just how perfect life really is amidst the surviving and the details. It takes those simple moments together with someone you care about to bring the reality of what a joy life is home again.

That was what this last week was like for me. It was being home again.