I Got Married . . . Again

First off, I am in the running for a prize. Please visit The Writer's Roundabout and vote for me (on the right side of the front page) while you're checking out Rebecca's awesome blog!

*********************************************
I got married yesterday. Yeah, really, I got married. Let me explain . . .

T is Catholic and I am Protestant. We were married in a Lutheran Church over 11 years ago without the Catholic church's permission or knowledge. Uh. Oh. We lived in wedded "bliss" not knowing that we were committing a MORTAL SIN. Kind of exciting . . . I mean, horrible and should be corrected right away. Ahem.

Now that J is getting baptized it is IMPERATIVE that T is right with THE Church. This means our marriage must be convalidated--recognized by the church. What does this mean? We had to say our vows again in the Catholic Church with a priest. Sounds simple enough, huh?

I thought we were just going to stand in front of the priest, say a few words and that was it. But NO. We had witnesses, I wore a skirt, he wore a suit coat, there were flowers, and music. No kidding. It really wasn't a big deal, but it certainly felt bigger than what I had initially thought. T called me around 2 pm yesterday and asked, "Can you wear something nice?" WHAT? I was thinking my khaki pants and blue sweater. I mean, you are talking to someone who rarely gets out of her pj's!

As we got ready, J screamed and whined (I was thinking, "Is this a sign???"), I struggled to put on my skirt and tights and complained about not having lost all the baby fat and that my thighs should not have to go through this--be sucked in like sausages into the way-too-small tights. T said, "I didn't complain at YOUR wedding." I cocked my eyebrow and said, "Yeah, that's right, you didn't. You were still HUNGOVER." (To be honest, J is NOT much of a drinker, but since he lived in Georgia at the time and the wedding was in Michigan, he had his bachelor party the night before--smart move.)


When we pulled in to the church parking lot my friend, co-worker (teacher) and witness walked across the parking lot carrying flowers. "The bride has got to have flowers," she said. For a very brief moment I wondered if I could have still fit into my wedding dress. Ugh, why torture myself. A moment later another friend/teacher pulled up with her husband. Then T's witness came with another friend of T's. We piled into the church--J by this time turned into a little angel (thank Heaven for small miracles). We stood in the back of the empty church while the priest went over instructions. I giggled and quipped that this was the quickest rehearsal ever!

T and I took our places (yes, we were going to walk down the aisle) and the priest excused himself for a moment and came back with MUSIC. Oh Wow. I make faces at J (who sat smiling in my friend's arms). The priest took his place in front of the alter and T and I began to walk toward the smiling faces of our friends, the priest, and our baby boy, J. It was then that it hit me. . .

Classic music played from a tape player, I carried a small store-bought bouquet, I wore a simple outfit--there wasn't a choir, an organist, a church full of people, no attendants, no fancy dress, no tuxes, no decorations. It didn't matter. As we stood facing one another I thought about the last 11 years. We've seen deaths, births, we've weathered so much, and shared in so many joys. We have a son. A beautiful baby boy that has made it ALL worth it. I love this man. I really, really do. He drives me nuts (I am CERTAIN that I drive him even more nuts) at times, but not nearly as many times as he makes me smile.

As I held his hands I realized that I am so blessed. Me. God blessed me. Although this was a simple ceremony, just a formality really, it was an amazing reminder of this marriage, these vows, this life I've lead and the value it holds. Wow.

Here we are over 11 years ago:And at our second "wedding" yesterday:

And you know . . . dress or no dress . . . I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.