Well, folks, the past few days have been full of utter wedding crap. No way to say it better, excepting to maybe call it stupid f*cking bridal b*llshit. Because that’s how awesome it’s been. These few days have made me consider scrapping the whole dress-big pretty place- good food-band thing and heading to town hall in comfortable clothes. The thing is, though, we sent out invitations, and people want to come. And they even drew the prettiest little pictures on the backs of their RSVP cards. So at this point, scrapping the whole thing is sort of out.
But really, hasn’t it been sort of out this whole time? I mean, the whole point is that we want our people there, that the making of our family is the coming together of two families, of two communities of friends, and – as it says on our invitation – because specific people’s love, guidance, and friendship have been important to us in our individual lives, we would like for them to join us in celebrating and affirming our life as a couple. That’s the whole point of our wedding – not our marriage, but yes, it really is why we’re having this wedding.
All of that said, we are asking a lot from our guests, as I mentioned here. And that brings me to the guest post of today, from Turtle best friend, who did, in fact, make me cry last night. Take it away.
When the Chips were Down, I Failed. We all did.
Hello, devoted blog readers. First off, this is not Bird. If this blog actually posts, however, it will be because Bird was kind enough to post it for me even though I made her cry last night. Yes, I made my best friend’s fiancee cry, and before you chastise, rest assured I feel awful enough all on my own. When Turtle told me she was getting married all those months ago, it was just shy of two years since my own marriage had ended—and not by my choice. I was, and still am, heartbroken. So even though I tried to put my big girl pants on and be supportive, it seems I have failed miserably.
Still, something came of all this yuckiness tonight. I realized something that I hadn’t until now, and that maybe I never would have if Bird’s tears hadn’t broken through my hard shell of cynicism and resentment. And what I realized is this: This wedding is unlike any other wedding you will ever be invited to, and that, all you fellow attendees-to-be, is not just a good thing, it’s a wonderful thing.
Yes, perhaps Bird and my BFF seem to be asking a lot, but take a step back and ask yourself when was the last time another friend or family member ever wanted you to be so involved in planning one of the most important days of their lives? For most of us, weddings are just an invitation in the mail, maybe a nice dress or a tie, an impersonal gift left on a table, and, if we’re lucky, an open bar. Heck, the last wedding I went to I didn’t even get a chance to say two words to the bride. So here are these two amazing people, loving all of us so much and so uniquely that they want to involve us in every beautiful step of the planning and celebration (not to mention the actual ceremony) and what do we do? We gripe that they’re asking too much.
Okay sure, it may seem like a few too many parties, but so what? Where’s the rule that says you can only have one? Or two? And who says it was all their idea? I’m guessing if someone had said to me, “I want to throw you a bridal shower” I would have been totally thrilled! And if my best friend wanted to throw me a bachelorette party too, well hey, bring it on! My point is, fellow gripers, that these are not two selfish people making selfish decisions. These are two of the most selfless people I have ever known doing the best they can to make all of us feel loved and appreciated in honor of their special day. Um, I don’t know about you, but I think that’s kind of awesome, and I feel like a total ass for not realizing this sooner. But hey, I’m bitter and heartbroken—what’s your excuse?
So here’s my advice, for what it’s worth: Make a damn quilt square. Bake a friggin’ pie. Color a picture or take two extra seconds to write a note on the back of your response card. And however and whenever you can, be there. That’s all they’re asking, and to me it seems like a really small price to pay for two of the most loving, give-with-all-their-hearts people I have ever met. And whom I will be proud to stand next to on that Saturday morning in September and be a part of the beginning of their future.