The Lighthouse: Part One

Despite 2004 being one of the worst years ever for my family, it wasn't all bad. There were bright spots, little beacons we could see from our place on the shiftless dark waters that tried to swallow us up everytime we let our eyelids get a little heavy. There were lighthouses here and there, waving us out of our misery and letting us know that life was still going to march forward and we needed to wade ashore to join in. The biggest of these lighthouses that year? The wedding, of course.



The wedding was happening. We had planned and planned and planned. Ok, my cousins Amber and Lauren, my mother and mother-in-law had planned and planned and planned. I was never much of a wedding-type girl. I had not been planning my wedding since the day I first watched a Disney movie. I did not care what color my flowers were, or that there even were flowers. I had no idea what the centerpieces should look like, though I thought something edible seemed like a good idea. Yes, something edible and probably chocolate. My mother and Amber would press me relentlessly, "There isn't much time left, you NEED to make this decision soon. Which DJ? Which hall? The church or somewhere outdoors? What colors? Which caterer? Which, which, which?" My reply almost always, much to the chagrin of my entourage, was something to the effect of, "I don't know...? What do you think?" I truly did not care. My biggest requests were that I wanted the wedding outdoors, and I wanted everyone I truly cared about to be able to join in the celebration.



Somehow (and I still consider this a miracle of biblical proportions) the wedding had been planned. All of the required elements of the western wedding paradigm were in place. We had a DJ (who apparently could not read, because she kept insisting on smoking inside right in front of the giant NO SMOKING INSIDE sign), we had an outdoor nuptial location (a beautiful rose garden in full bloom), we had officiants (my uncle who is a Methodist minister, and my aunt who was in school to become a Methodist minister). We had a hall for the reception, we had bouquets, we had edible favors and decorations, we had free food, beer, and wine. I had a dress. My bridesmaids and flower girls had dresses. The groomsmen and ring-bearer had tuxes. We had photographers, cake-bakers, rings and did I mention free beer? We were done.

I could not have asked for a more perfect weekend than that weekend. All of my bridesmaids spent the night with me the night before the wedding. We stayed up doing our nails, drinking cocktails and exchanging hilarious stories. What a perfect night. Still to this day I think about the last night I got to spend with my two best friends from high school, my two best friends and loyal roommates from college, and three of my closest cousins. My support group had gathered around to make this last night of singlehood special. For me. In the morning my cousins woke up early and made everyone pancakes for breakfast. Then we set off for the hair salon to become intoxicated on hair-spray and mimosas.

My hair stylist (long-time hairdresser and friend) told me she had never had a bride so calm. I was not nervous at all. I had no doubt about anything that was going to happen that day. What was there to be nervous about? I remember thinking about the night we decided to move the wedding up to that summer. Initially we were going to wait until I was done with college. There were no concrete plans or dates set...

I was sitting in the room I shared with Whitney, my roommate on a wintry night in 2003. I adored my life away at college. I had great friends. I loved school. I had wonderful professors and great grades. One of the professors even mentioned that I could go to graduate school. In fact, it wasn't so much a "could go," as a "would go." Me. No teacher had ever had that much faith in me, before. I was doing so well here...

But, something was missing like it always was. I was just tired of being away from Mike. I was tired of having to plan visits to see him weeks in advance. I was tired of saying good night to him over the phone every night. I had just finished a phone conversation with him, in fact. He was pushing the issue of moving the wedding up again or maybe just moving in together. I thought of all the reasons it didn't make sense. No, no, no. We had a plan. Just stick to the plan! But even as I fought for the plan, something tugged at the back of my grey matter and told me to let the plan go. Just let it go.

After I had hung up the phone with Mike, I was crying just thinking about my future. What did it look like? I knew it started with Mike, but how soon did it begin? How was feeling this lonely good for me? Was I going to get a sign about what I should do? It seemed like God always sent me a sign when I needed help with a major decision--

knock knock!

"What?" I yelled, wiping my eyes hurriedly. Who the hell was it, now? For some reason I was the only one home that night. My roommates were working, or studying, or something. Before I could gather my thoughts, a burst of energy bounded into our living room, through the hall way and into my bedroom. I immediately recognized the bounding as belonging to our friend and neighbor Jeremiah.

"Hey! Where's Whitney? Hey... You're crying. Why are you crying?" I could already tell that this visit was not going to be helpful to my situation. I loved my friend Miah to death, but he was far from serious a majority of the time.

"She's at work. She'll be back later." I responded, annoyed that my last minute tear-wiping had not hidden the fact that I had been crying like a moron a few minutes earlier. He looked at me and sat down on the edge of my bed, something I had not expected him to do. He was much closer to Whitney than he ever was to me.

"Well, what's wrong? Are you ok?" I rolled my eyes up at him. Was he really trying to help? Well, no one else was around. I might as well let it out to someone...

"Yeah, I'm fine." Whew. That was hard.
"But, you're crying."
"Yeah, I'm ok."
"Oh, then why are you crying?"
I sighed. This was going nowhere. "I just got off the phone with Mike."
"Ew... did you guys break up?"
"NO!" I shook my head vigorously and sighed.
"No. It's just... we want to get married NOW, but we don't know if we should. I mean, we are just tired of being apart. That's all. It's just-- hard. And I am tired of sitting here all alone while everyone is always gone, and I just don't think my parents will understand-- but we really just want to get married now, ya know? I just feel alone here sometimes. I'm tired of it!"

Miah leaned over and searched my face for a moment. I remember his gaze being so sincere, looking at me with the most serious face he has ever given me to this day. He waited a minute, but not too long before he said,

"If you guys love each other THAT much, you will make it work. Just make it work. It will work. Just tell your parents how you feel. It will all work out." He gave me a big bear hug and went back next door to his own apartment. It was such a simple, sweet, short conversation that he probably doesn't even remember-- but it gave me the strength I needed to move the wedding up.

On the day of the wedding the only thing I feared was tripping over my dress or falling headlong into the wedding cake. Other than that, I was ready for the party to begin. I was ready for the marriage--not the WEDDING-- but the actual MARRIAGE. Too many people get caught up on that ONE DAY. It's only one day. It isn't going to define your whole life. It is just the gate through which you will be ushered before forming a meaninful, life-long (hopefully) commitment to this one person. It should be fun. It shouldn't matter if bridesmaid number three bought the wrong shoes, or the color of the roses were bisque insteand of bone. It shouldn't matter if the toasts are long and tearful, or short and hilarious. All that matters is that you are ready to spend your life with one person, and that everyone you love is there to spend that lifetime with you.

We were ready to be married. Yes, we were young. Yes, we were stupid. And yes, we were doing the right thing. I was sure of it.