I was visiting Venezia in October and it was fascinating to see a bridal party just strolling around Piazza San Marco. Perhaps, searching for the perfect place to take their once in a lifetime “now forever hold your peace, so help me God” pictures or on their way to a honeymoon suite, on one of, if not The romantic city in the world. Then, it got me thinking…
It was set in motion by a few words I left on a joint bachelor/bachelorette party guest book. As I was inscribing the words, I reminisced about my own wedding, unconventional to some but ordinary to a few, to the “a deux” individuals who opt to elope into You May Kiss The Bride Vegas quickie style wedding thus beginning the poem.
For your reason and yours alone, you decide on a quick and spontaneous celebration of your union, to the more elaborated and orchestrated event of balloon, flower, flower girl, ring bearer, designer dress/tuxedo, quick steps dance menu, ten bridesmaids… ooff, I am exhausted just thinking about it, to later move on to “what was I thinking?” category when a sad and lonely “imaginary” picture of the two of you appear in the corner of the local newspaper.
Whatever suits you!
You enjoy the romantic moment, precious or not, you learn to guard it as yours but are never exhausted to recount it to those who wholehearted chase the account. Meaning, the tattlers.
It is the moment you designed. Everyone sitting around the bonfire, sipping Long Island Iced Teas and the two of you telling a story. Cool huh?! Not but in the imaginary world of make believe, it actually happened.
The story however, becomes fascinating to the prying ears, particularly when there are no witnesses to the event other then you and your mate, and the officiating individuals.
What was it like? Did you cry? Did you throw the bouquet? What was your dress like, your tuxedo? Who officiated it? Did you have a maid of honor, best man? How did you celebrate?
Nope! Zilch! Nada… None of the above and I have a picture to prove it or do I?!
These are choices, mine and yours imaginary ideas to what could be or have been a perfect and choreographic wedding, where the groom and bride would walk or have walked down the isle to a ticketed parade of rice throwing and cheer spectators and oh yeah!…to an exhausting bank account at the end of shindig: the bill and full stomachs.
Unconventional or not, it is your decision. Whatever makes your fancy. Whatever your heart’s content or desire. It is your wedding day. Your wedding march. Make it perfect. One to remember. I am still telling my story!
You must be logged in to post a comment.