Flirtatiousness . . . And weddings
It was beautiful -- and completely full of surprises. Aw, flirtartiousness . . .
On Thursday, just before the rehearsal was going to start, I started to cry. And it went downhill from there. I found out on Thursday that I was guestbook chick -- Yay for being the last person to find that out! Tim knew, and everyone else knew. That was the first surprise.
After the dinner, I completely lost my voice. It was so sad! :'( I had to take my grandpa and grandma to get Grandpa's tux, and it was kinda fun cuz there was a cute boy helping him. He's been there every time I went there -- from fitting to picking them up to returning them. Makes me wonder if he ever has a day off! Lol -- he was very sweet, too. He asked me what happened to my foot and then he told us about a wedding that they did tuxes for in which the wedding party had a car accident 2 days before the wedding, and so they had someone who had a broken ankle and someone who had a broken arm. It was sad, but completely hilarious, too. We had to leave Grandpa's jacket there to be altered and when I picked it up, I didn't put my bootie on, cuz it was a pain and I was only going to be walking like 10 feet anyway. He looked at me and said, "I can't even tell anything happened to you!" Lol -- he's a sweetie. :-)
The wedding was very emotional for me, and Andy knew it was going to be, so before the wedding, he pulled me aside and said, "Don't you DARE cry, or I will stop the whole thing and straighten you out!" Lol -- I did very well. I only cried at the beginning when he stopped by me and gave me a hug. I would have completely lost it, but Stacy was sitting beside me and she kept squeezing my hand. It wasn't so much that he was getting married -- it was just that he's been my best friend forever. It was the little boy that sewed my doll's head on that was getting married. And the little boy that untangled my hair when it was knotted. And the little boy that shared his cars with me and let me sleep in his bed with him when I was scared. It was the boy that sat up well past midnight and talked with me about everything and nothing -- when we were only 10 and 12 years old. It was the boy that used to fly kites with me and play on the playground. It was the teenager who defended me when people were mean to me and who held me when I was sad and listened to me when I needed to talk. It was the man who knows me better than I know me. And I love him like no one can even begin to comprehend. And he was getting married. And so I cried. Not because it was sad, but because we have so many happy memories and some not-so-happy. I cried remembering them; I cried, looking to the future, hoping and praying that things will be better.
And I cried out of frustration with my parents because they didn't show up.
The wedding was completely beautiful. It was one that deserved to be cried at because of the beauty and simplicity of it. Looking back at it, the readings, the music, everything, was completely Andy and Becky. It couldn't have been more perfect.
At the end, they were presented as Becky and Andrew C. I could not have been more surprised. Andy had asked me what I thought of the idea of him changing his name, and I thought that he had been joking. I asked him what he was going to change it to, and he said, "Princess Fiona." He ended up taking her name. He told me that it was because he had problems with taxes because of our last name (which is completely possible -- everyone manages to mess it up), and that was the last straw for him. And too, I suppose, there's not really much in it for him if he kept our family name, considering that as far as my parents are concerned, he's pretty much dead. They don't even talk to him or about him anymore.
The third surprise was the cream colored 195? truck the best man happened to find for their ride to the reception. It was just awesome. Gene brought it to the door, and Andy and Becky came out of the church, and you should have seen the looks on their faces. It was just so cool! We got tons of pictures.
I cried again at the beginning of the reception. They were playing Sinatra, and everyone started clinking their china, and I started to cry because Mom and Dad SHOULD have been there, but they weren't. My uncle Denny sat down at our table just as the tears started to run down my cheeks, and he said, "Mari Jo, there's something on your face!" And I laughed through my tears.
It was just the most awesome time. I had so many people tell me that my brothers and I were all so elegant and proper and that we knew what we were supposed to be doing, and they were so proud of us. They kept telling me how pretty I was and how handsome my brothers were (they were!), and I can't understand (and neither could they) how my parents could choose to stay away. And so many of my aunts and cousins hugged me and cried on my shoulder because my parents were so special to them, but they didn't even get to see them. They cried for us too, because we deserve better than this. We just learn to deal with it -- we don't learn to like it, but we learn that this is the way it is, and it's not going to change. It's disappointing, but it's doable.
Everyone told me that when I get married, I have to have a bigger wedding than Andy's. Wow -- that would be huge. Lol -- I think I'd have to invite everyone I've ever met! Cousins told me that if my parents weren't going to be there for me, they WOULD be there, and we could do it without them. It's amazing how much support we have! Don't be so nice to me, people! It makes me cry!
A bunch of my tuxedoed family were congregating before the wedding, and I went over to them and I said, "You guys look *so pretty!* They all laughed at me and one of them said, "*Girls* are pretty, *boys* are handsome!" Gene said, "You're so *handsome* Mari Jo!" And so, for the rest of the night, I was called handsome and the boys were all pretty. It was SO funny!
I found out that my writing resembles my paternal grandmother's writing. Lol -- we got out the last few letters we got from her before she died when I was 2, and I read them aloud to my family. We nearly died laughing. In one of them, she said something about asking my grandpa to do something, and he told her that he couldn't because it hurt too much and that she didn't know what pain was. She said, "I guess he's right. I've only had 2 miscarriages, 3 babies, 2 surgeries, a broken neck, and migraines every day of my life. How could I know what pain is??" She was telling about trying to sell their farm, and Grandpa wanted more for it than he could get, and Grandma said, "He seldom takes off his rose-colored glasses, and I seldom put mine on. I guess that's one reason why we don't see eye to eye."
~MK
On Thursday, just before the rehearsal was going to start, I started to cry. And it went downhill from there. I found out on Thursday that I was guestbook chick -- Yay for being the last person to find that out! Tim knew, and everyone else knew. That was the first surprise.
After the dinner, I completely lost my voice. It was so sad! :'( I had to take my grandpa and grandma to get Grandpa's tux, and it was kinda fun cuz there was a cute boy helping him. He's been there every time I went there -- from fitting to picking them up to returning them. Makes me wonder if he ever has a day off! Lol -- he was very sweet, too. He asked me what happened to my foot and then he told us about a wedding that they did tuxes for in which the wedding party had a car accident 2 days before the wedding, and so they had someone who had a broken ankle and someone who had a broken arm. It was sad, but completely hilarious, too. We had to leave Grandpa's jacket there to be altered and when I picked it up, I didn't put my bootie on, cuz it was a pain and I was only going to be walking like 10 feet anyway. He looked at me and said, "I can't even tell anything happened to you!" Lol -- he's a sweetie. :-)
The wedding was very emotional for me, and Andy knew it was going to be, so before the wedding, he pulled me aside and said, "Don't you DARE cry, or I will stop the whole thing and straighten you out!" Lol -- I did very well. I only cried at the beginning when he stopped by me and gave me a hug. I would have completely lost it, but Stacy was sitting beside me and she kept squeezing my hand. It wasn't so much that he was getting married -- it was just that he's been my best friend forever. It was the little boy that sewed my doll's head on that was getting married. And the little boy that untangled my hair when it was knotted. And the little boy that shared his cars with me and let me sleep in his bed with him when I was scared. It was the boy that sat up well past midnight and talked with me about everything and nothing -- when we were only 10 and 12 years old. It was the boy that used to fly kites with me and play on the playground. It was the teenager who defended me when people were mean to me and who held me when I was sad and listened to me when I needed to talk. It was the man who knows me better than I know me. And I love him like no one can even begin to comprehend. And he was getting married. And so I cried. Not because it was sad, but because we have so many happy memories and some not-so-happy. I cried remembering them; I cried, looking to the future, hoping and praying that things will be better.
And I cried out of frustration with my parents because they didn't show up.
The wedding was completely beautiful. It was one that deserved to be cried at because of the beauty and simplicity of it. Looking back at it, the readings, the music, everything, was completely Andy and Becky. It couldn't have been more perfect.
At the end, they were presented as Becky and Andrew C. I could not have been more surprised. Andy had asked me what I thought of the idea of him changing his name, and I thought that he had been joking. I asked him what he was going to change it to, and he said, "Princess Fiona." He ended up taking her name. He told me that it was because he had problems with taxes because of our last name (which is completely possible -- everyone manages to mess it up), and that was the last straw for him. And too, I suppose, there's not really much in it for him if he kept our family name, considering that as far as my parents are concerned, he's pretty much dead. They don't even talk to him or about him anymore.
The third surprise was the cream colored 195? truck the best man happened to find for their ride to the reception. It was just awesome. Gene brought it to the door, and Andy and Becky came out of the church, and you should have seen the looks on their faces. It was just so cool! We got tons of pictures.
I cried again at the beginning of the reception. They were playing Sinatra, and everyone started clinking their china, and I started to cry because Mom and Dad SHOULD have been there, but they weren't. My uncle Denny sat down at our table just as the tears started to run down my cheeks, and he said, "Mari Jo, there's something on your face!" And I laughed through my tears.
It was just the most awesome time. I had so many people tell me that my brothers and I were all so elegant and proper and that we knew what we were supposed to be doing, and they were so proud of us. They kept telling me how pretty I was and how handsome my brothers were (they were!), and I can't understand (and neither could they) how my parents could choose to stay away. And so many of my aunts and cousins hugged me and cried on my shoulder because my parents were so special to them, but they didn't even get to see them. They cried for us too, because we deserve better than this. We just learn to deal with it -- we don't learn to like it, but we learn that this is the way it is, and it's not going to change. It's disappointing, but it's doable.
Everyone told me that when I get married, I have to have a bigger wedding than Andy's. Wow -- that would be huge. Lol -- I think I'd have to invite everyone I've ever met! Cousins told me that if my parents weren't going to be there for me, they WOULD be there, and we could do it without them. It's amazing how much support we have! Don't be so nice to me, people! It makes me cry!
A bunch of my tuxedoed family were congregating before the wedding, and I went over to them and I said, "You guys look *so pretty!* They all laughed at me and one of them said, "*Girls* are pretty, *boys* are handsome!" Gene said, "You're so *handsome* Mari Jo!" And so, for the rest of the night, I was called handsome and the boys were all pretty. It was SO funny!
I found out that my writing resembles my paternal grandmother's writing. Lol -- we got out the last few letters we got from her before she died when I was 2, and I read them aloud to my family. We nearly died laughing. In one of them, she said something about asking my grandpa to do something, and he told her that he couldn't because it hurt too much and that she didn't know what pain was. She said, "I guess he's right. I've only had 2 miscarriages, 3 babies, 2 surgeries, a broken neck, and migraines every day of my life. How could I know what pain is??" She was telling about trying to sell their farm, and Grandpa wanted more for it than he could get, and Grandma said, "He seldom takes off his rose-colored glasses, and I seldom put mine on. I guess that's one reason why we don't see eye to eye."
~MK
posted by Mari Kate @ 9:31 PM
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