17 years ago

[janradder]

I had spent the morning and a good part of the afternoon cooking, repairing steps and setting up tables and chairs in my soon-to-be in-laws back yard on Long Island. I was wearing a pair of old filthy shorts and a similarly filthy T-shirt. Both of them were covered in equal amounts of dirt, sweat and food splatters. The guests had begun to arrive half an hour earlier and I'd greeted them brightly in my decidedly non-formal attire.

"Aren't you the one getting married?" nearly all of them had asked, looking at my outfit.

"Yes," I'd said brightly and with a smile. "I am!"

About twenty minutes before the ceremony was to start, I was still wearing my grimy work clothes when my mom grabbed me by the arm, led me to a room where my rented tux was hanging, and told me to get changed.

"If you don't, the wedding's going to start and you're still going to be wearing those ratty things," she said.

I stood at the doorway, staring at the tuxedo, took a deep breath, and changed. Though I hadn't felt the least bit nervous before, when I changed clothes I was suddenly overcome with horrible, gut-wrenching fear.

I pulled on the jacket, tied my shoes, and adjusted my tie in the mirror. Then I stepped out into the hallway where my mother was waiting to pin a boutoniére to my collar. There is a picture of me, taken as she did so, where I look sort of like Elvis Presley. I'm standing with my arms hanging back a little at my sides while my legs are spread slightly apart, stiffly. My head is turned to the right a little and looking down, sort of like I've grabbed the microphone and pulled it in close, ready to croon while the girls scream and faint. I didn't feel like Elvis when that picture was taken, though. Instead, I was absolutely terrified.

In spite of the terror, however, I walked out of the house into the backyard filled with gardens of flowers just about to bloom and joined haddayr at the top of the stairs we'd spent a week repairing. Then the music started and walked down them to a gazebo where we were married.

Though stepping into those clothes and out into the backyard was one of the most terrifying things I'd ever done in my life to that point, it's still one of the best decisions I've ever made.

Comments

[sdn.livejournal.com]

::raises lighter::

rock on, you guys.

[janradder.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Tuxes are pretty terrifying, honestly.

Major congrats to both of you :-)

[janradder.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[stephanieburgis.livejournal.com]

Happy anniversary!!!

[janradder.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[sarahgoss.livejournal.com]

Yay! Happy anniversary! And thanks for reminding me of that house on Long Island. Many many of my happy memories (and a few really odd ones, which is as it should be) revolve around that house and yard.

[janradder.livejournal.com]

Thank you! (it was an odd house, so it's not surprising there would be odd memories).

[pierogi-queen.livejournal.com]

And all these years, I've thought that what you were afraid of was that I was going to pin that boutonier directly to your chest instead of to your jacket.

[janradder.livejournal.com]

That may have been true as well.

[pierogi-queen.livejournal.com]

You were wise to be afraid of that - I came mighty close to sticking you. I think I got my finger instead though.