"The Happiest Day of My Life?"
My daughter, Patti, asked me about 6 weeks ago, "Mom, isn't my wedding day supposed to be the happiest day of my life?" If it is, then why aren't I happy? Every day a new problem comes up and it makes me miserable and tired trying to handle it all." The questions were rhetorical, so I didn't answer; I just listened. Then I began to recall some of the problems that she spoke of.
The engagement began in August while she was away at St. Mary's College. Her fiancee had come to the house to show us the rings before he ever gave them to her. Well, maybe the rings were the first problem. Patti, like myself, prefers silver to gold. She had seen a ring, a very expensive ring, in a local store. I think she had her heart set on that one. The ones, Jeff her fiancee picked out and bought, were a combination of gold and silver but appear to be gold. I think Patti's lack of enthusiasm when he presented the engagement ring hurt Jeff. She told him, when she got a job and could afford it, she would buy the ring she wanted.
One night while watching TV, Patti accidentally back handed Jeff with her left hand. He pretended to be hurt. She said "Oh Jeff, that little rock couldn't hurt you." I saw shock, hurt and then anger pass across his face. (nonverbal) He tensed and started to get up. I said,"Jeff, don't bother getting angry. You knew that was not the ring she wanted." His face now showed understanding and disappointment. As he slumped back to where he was sitting, he said, "I know." Jeff doesn't seem to hold a grudge. Patti was wearing his ring. The Wedding was set for May. (Facial expressions and posture, parts of non verbal communications, are quite revealing when one becomes attuned and aware to look for them.)
By mid September there was a drastic change in plans. Due to an unforeseen and unplanned future event diagnosed by a doctor when Patti became ill, all long range planning went out the window. The Wedding had to be as soon as possible. Patti left school and returned home on a one year leave of absence. She was still very weak and needed T.L.C. I began to hear of the plans that were being made for the Wedding by Jeff's family. Limousines were mentioned. Something on the back burner of my brain started boiling. I knew something that Jeff's family didn't. There was the future event to be paid for, there was the Wedding and the honeymoon. I felt I was being left out of the plans for the Wedding I would be paying for. I talked with my husband about my feelings. Our solution was to give to Patti and Jeff a lump sum of money for a wedding gift. They could spend it anyway they wanted. The Wedding, their future, on anything! One burner went out.
Believe it or not, we had to find a place for the reception before we could get the invitations. One evening the families got together to make the invitation list. It started at 150 and eventually went to 336 people. The large number eliminated a lot of places with lower capacities. We made a future appointment to visit the Crosswind, a place especially designed for large parties. They offer complete catering facilities including limousine service. No figures are discussed over the phone because many options are available and each has a separate price tag. The day before our appointment Patti and I, dressed in jeans etc., were in the adjacent shopping center, running some errands I said "Lets run over and peek in while we are here." The lobby is two stories high. I peeked into the ballroom. There are huge chandeliers, at least five. One might fill my entire living room. I thought "Uh oh!" We went up to the reception area and asked if a salesperson might see us today instead of tomorrow. Several heads popped out of several rooms and popped right back in again. The answer was, NO. No one was available. We went home and called to cancel our appointment. (Appearance makes a difference. We were casually dressed, the wind had been blowing therefore our hair was mussed. I believed they concluded that they didn't want us there, the feeling was mutual. The place was too pretentious for us.)
Society and culture have more influence on us than we realize, I suspect. I went alone to view the Old P. G. Country Club off of route 450. Capacity was right. But ---. In order to get to the building and grounds, you have to drive three blocks by a run down apartment complex. What would my husbands family think? That location was discarded also. Days of phone calls later, we were told of a mansion on Sugar Loaf Mountain in Frederick Co. available for rent for receptions. Patti and I drove up there. In fact we missed the turn and went all the way up the mountain and found the mansion on the way back down. Patti told me that the second day she and Jeff dated it was on the mountain. My husband and I have been to the mountain many times. It was perfect. The mansion is being restored bit by bit but the aura of past elegance is strong and enticing. We walked around the immediate grounds. Patti pointed to a stone stair case beyond the cement gold fish pond, "That is where I want to be married." We went in to sign the papers. The next available weekend was that of November 22. Two weeks later than we had planned, but so what. There couldn't be a more perfect place.
Now things could start moving. More phone calls to find a printer who could get the invitation printed the quickest. Patti found one in Kensington. She and I went to pick out the invitations. She combined the wording from several cards. It was beautiful. We also ordered matches and napkins imprinted with the date and names. They arrived in 6 days. Now to gather all the names and address. My husband helped by printing the list on his computer. Even the invitations caused some concern. Some had come without inner or outer envelopes, and one came without the imprinted white rose (the silver stem was there, but no rose.) More calls. Ten more complete invitations were sent to us.
Patti and I went to a bridal shop where she tried on several dresses. One she particularly liked was a size 10. She needed a size 12 and wanted it in off white. The store manager said she would check her other outlets and the factory for us. Several days later we got the good news and the bad news. A size 12 was found in Salisbury, Md. and was being brought to the store. But --- it was white. A check with the factory brought the bad news, that dress is not made in off white and could not be dyed.
Anyway Patti had said that she had always dreamed that her grandmother would make her wedding dress. She and I checked pattern books and found a pretty one that flowed free from the bodice. We bought the pattern. The family went to visit my husband's mother one Sunday. I asked her what her schedule was like for the month. She showed me her calendar. The weekends were marked up but the middle of the week was mostly clear. I ventured, "Patti would like to know if you would make her wedding dress." She turned and nearly shouted, "No. I have never made one. They are very difficult to make and I don't think I have the time on such short notice." Patti face became drawn. I said, "It's OK. honey, you and I can make it." The second rear burner came on in my head, flames shooting right thru my skull. Sometime during the next week my mother-in-law called to inquire what was being done about the dress. She said, "You have to be able to sew in order to make a wedding dress." I said, "I know, but I feel the 3 of us can do it." "Who's the third," she asked. "Bill, your son, "I replied, "He is very good with a sewing machine. Besides there is a possibility that Jeff's mother's seamstress will make it." "Oh good,"she said,"I was going to say before I let you try it, I would do it." The burner flared even higher. Even my hair was hot. "Would you like to speak to Bill, he's sitting right here?" I said in a squeaky voice I was trying to control. I handed him the phone, screwed my face up and left the room to stick my hands in the dish water. Water usually has a calming effect on me. Boy did I need it. I wanted to scream and call my mother-in-law every dirty name I could think of. Instead I used avoidance. I ran away from it, so to speak. In fact, I did scream and cuss after my husband hung up the phone. (Displacement of anger I think this is called.) I learned during the next week or so, that Patti had talked to her grandmother several times on the phone. Patti wasn't holding a grudge, so why should I? It was her Wedding, her dress. The burner went off. The pilot light is still burning though. After all, my mother-in-law had insulted and hurt me also. She knew perfectly well that I used to sew and made many of Patti's clothes before the jean era.
I went with Patti for her first fitting. The seamstress was an adorable little German lady who worked from her home. She fit the pattern to Patti. She search thru the jumble on her dining room table for pins and scissors and chalk. (It was Halloween, it was also the seamstress's son's birthday which she had forgotten until early morning. Now she was trying to plan a last minute party for her 9 year old.) She had to lengthen the pattern 6 inches but shorten the sleeves 4 inches. Even pro's make mistakes. I wasn't involved in the crisis but I heard about it. My mother was having a cancer treatment so I was at the hospital with her Friday and Saturday. My husband called to tell me that Patti was very upset and crying but had left the house with a dress before 9 AM Saturday. It seems the sleeves on a bridesmaid's dress, were 4 inches too short. Patti had to buy more material and return the dress to be corrected. She handled it herself and solved the problem. I was proud of her but felt some guilt because I had not been there to help.
More problems arose. The preacher. The caterer, my son Kurt. The missing rented silver serving pieces. The number of chairs and tables. The disc jockey and the missing list of requested songs. The unfinished veil and head pieces for the bridesmaids. The bridal bouquet which was wrong and had to be redone. The Wedding came. More problems. Shoes for the bride, wilted red roses intended for the mother's and grandmother's that had been placed on the dining table by the caterers. The video camera that went frizzy right after the flower girl entered. The photographer that slipped down the steps. Another photographer that got drunk and burned a hole in a sofa. The indian type dance where the men stripped off their shirts and offended some people. The table that was stained by champagne used for the toast. The missing diamond earring. The missing silver serving pieces. Oh did I mention that before? Well they are still missing. I called the police after they could not be located. Now it's up to them to find out why they are missing. My daughter and I didn't even know about the silver. We never made it to the dining room to eat. My son who catered the Wedding had ordered them and added it to the rental bill for the table and chairs. When the rental company called, Patti said, "What silver?" When I learned about it after returning from a trip to the mountains to recuperate, I said, "What Silver?"
My husband and I left the Tuesday after the Wedding for number one son's mountain cabin. I needed to be near nature. I needed to sit under God's trees and be sheltered from God's blue or gray sky. I needed to breathe and taste the clear clean air. I needed to be alone with my husband. To unwind. To renew. How people can put up with this pressure over a years time. I will never know. My family and friends were becoming concerned about me. I couldn't eat or sleep. My mind raced from one problem to another, seeking answers or solutions. The heck with them, I was becoming worried about me. I knew what I needed. I needed to go to God's place. We went.
Weddings are very stressful time for families, I have been told. I believe it, I know it to be true. A tremendous number of problems arose and had to be handled. Conflicts among family members raged and had to be resolved. For instances, the one between me and my son, Kurt, the caterer. Ten days before the Wedding he went to visit the mansion with his boss, in order to view the facilities (stove, refrigerator, freezer, etc.) I received a message to call him, there was a problem. He wanted everything to be especially nice for his only sister's Wedding. He had ordered china plates, and silver utensils, stuffed chicken breasts, a steam ship round, and a veggie platter. The problem was, there was no place for anyone to sit down to eat. When I called him, he blamed me for having made a fool of himself in the eyes of his boss. I became assertive. I refused the blame. I had suggested finger sandwiches and potato chips on paper plates as it was a noon Wedding. I had been told, NO. He had waited for 4 weeks to view the mansion. That wasn't my fault, either. Back to paper plates, plastic utensils, sliced chicken breast, sliced roast beef and a veggie platter.
After the Wedding, Patti said to me, "Mom, remind me never to get married again. I'm going to be paying for this Wedding until I'm eighty years old."
I can only hope and pray that the pain and anxiety will fade from her
memory. That eventually all she will remember will be that gorgeous November
day, when she stood under God's blue sky, looking like an angel.
