I suppose I owe you an apology for the (probably unnoticeable) lack of posting on my end. What can I say—life has just gotten in the way of blogging. We have had a busy past year, including lots of travel, moving, new jobs, and acquiring a pup. It isn’t just that, though. For some reason, I feel protective over our wedding. I haven’t really found words to express what an incredible, awesome (in the literal sense of the word) feeling it is to be surrounded by nearly all of your closest family and friends. How it feels to enter into such a sacred union with the person you love most in the world. I know it sounds cliche, but it was the best day of my life, and I can’t imagine that my pitiful words will do it justice. I have just wanted to wrap the memories of our day around myself, like a warm blanket. I selfishly didn’t want to share them with anyone that isn’t my husband. Is that strange? Possibly. But it was the start of my marriage, and it just felt too deeply personal to share. At least right away. But now, I am ready.
Before I get back into the meat of my recaps, though, I want to write a post about how crazy and stressed I was before the wedding. Because, well, it was slightly all-consuming to me at the time. Sorry—it’s a big ol’ wall of text, so feel free to skip past if you don’t want hearing about how insane I was. I understand. I don’t really want to read about it either.
As some of you may recall, my grandfather passed away the week before our wedding. I don’t need to go into the details of my grief because 1. I imagine most of you know how it feels and 2. I am honestly still dealing with it. But let’s just say that it involved lots of crying in the shower, crying while doing the dishes, crying while writing my blog post. Lots of crying. Lots of remembering. Lots of smiling at old pictures. Lots of thanking God that I had such a wonderful grandfather that had an active part in my life. Needless to say, it was a difficult time. I will be honest: his passing put a little black cloud over the week leading up to the wedding. It was supposed to be such a happy time, and I felt a large amount of grief and guilt over the entire thing. But, the show must go on, and what better way to celebrate someone’s wonderful, long life than with a new marriage?
Personal photo, circa 2006
It did turn out to be somewhat of a blessing in disguise, though, as horrible as that sounds. You see, due to my grandfather’s passing, several family members who had previously RSVP’ed “no” to attend the wedding decided that they would, indeed, be able to attend after all, so that they could also attend my grandfather’s memorial. My family joked that he planned it that way all along, so that we could all be together to celebrate. There wasn’t anything my grandfather loved more than being surrounded by his family.
As happy as I was that the additional people would be able to come, this meant that not only was I dealing with my own sense of loss and grief, but I was also dealing with those inevitable wedding stresses that somehow seem to pop up in those final weeks leading up to the wedding. The main source of stress? Our table numbers and escort cards had been sent from Twin Ravens Press to our wonderful calligrapher, and she had started working on the cards already.
Before leaving for Seattle, Mr. CA and I had spent hours agonizing over the seating chart for the reception. We tried to seat people with friends and family that they would feel comfortable with, and it turned out that we had exactly the right amount of seats for each table. It worked out perfectly. Everything was settled. Until we had those additional family members decide to come. I do not want anyone to get me wrong: I was very happy that they were able to come after all (so so happy!). But their attendance bumped up our guest count (obviously), which meant that we had to add another table or try to squeeze additional people into the existing tables. Which our venue coordinator informed us was not feasible. I don’t deal with last-minute changes well. Cue bridal panic.
Thankfully, I had included an extra arrangement on the contract with our florist (in case of emergencies—phew! [Actually, we had ended up cutting a table and I forgot to alter the contract. Yay for happy forgetfulness!]), and our meal counts weren’t due until a few days before our wedding. So those things were not affected by the additional people. However, that added table gave me serious stress. The thought of having to redo all of the tables, escort cards, etc. made me sick to my stomach. Literally. After our final meeting with our priest, I was so stressed out that I was dry-heaving on our walk to lunch. Dry-heaving. In public. With people around. In the middle of the street. Over tables. Yep.
At that point, Mr. CA stepped in. I don’t think he had realized how stressed out I was until that point when I almost vomited on the sidewalk in front of him. He couldn’t understand why I was so stressed and, looking back, I am incredibly embarrassed at how much this situation stressed me out. Like, really embarrassed. Why did I let such a little, unimportant thing get to me? Mr. CA got me seated at lunch, forced me to drink water and have a few bites of food, and gently helped shoulder the burden. He made me see that, yes, we had extra people coming. But that didn’t necessarily mean that we had to redo all of the tables or escort cards. And it definitely shouldn’t be making me stressed to the point of dry-heaving. It was just one party, after all. Not even a full day.
So we handled it. Together. With much less stress. We added another table, but rather than shifting everything around, we simply created another “Table 3.” Our escort cards and table numbers arrived the next day and, with the additional paper Kristin letter-pressed (thank God we had extra!), I made another Table 3 sign. This meant that there were two Table 3s right next to each other at the reception. It was fine, though—I simply added a small “a” and “b” to the backs of the table numbers, and the backs of the corresponding escort cards. I asked my mom to just spread the word with her family that there were two Table 3s so that no one was confused. It cracks me up to this day when I see our wedding pictures, because the photographers ended up snapping a picture of the “Table 3” table number that I crappily did in my regular black ink, rather than the nice Table 3 that the calligrapher did in pretty green ink. Ha. I laugh every time I see this picture. (I’m so sorry, Michele!!)
I suppose the happy ending of the story is that after Mr. CA sat me down for lunch and we talked about the arrangements and how panicked and crazed and ridiculous I was, all of my stress melted away. Things were under control. And even if they weren’t, it didn’t matter (much). What mattered was that we were getting married and our friends and family were there to celebrate with us. Everything else would fall into place. Even if it didn’t, it would be OK. Mr. CA was there to help me through it.
And yes, everything worked out in the end. Duh. Of course it did! It always does. Ultimately, I was just so happy all of that side of my family could be there to celebrate and spend time together remembering my grandfather. The added stress (and yes, even the dry-heaving) was worth it, but pretty silly in hindsight. Looking back now I honestly can’t believe how stressed out I got over something so small-fry in the grand scheme of things. I am so grateful that I have Mr. CA right by my side, calling me out on my cray and helping me through the rough patches. And yes, holding my hair as I dry-heaved into the bushes on a side street in Capitol Hill.
In the throes of planning, did you get stressed about things that later on seemed minor and unimportant? Anyone else have lovely dry-heaving episodes like yours truly?
- First, we showered. Tea-party style.
- Recaps commenced. Sort of.
- I got over my dress regret.
- We made it official. Legally.
**All photography by Sarah Rhoads Photography unless otherwise noted**