My wedding was beautiful. It was at an art museum and we had barbecue for dinner and swing danced afterward. All my family was there. My close friends flew from far away. I wore a dress my mother sewed. My Dad walked me down the aisle. We made a mad exit by the light of sparklers and the frenzy of silly string. And as my husband and I were driving away, I repeated, “That was just beautiful. I can’t believe how beautiful my wedding was!”
That was almost 3 weeks ago. Now, we are home, settling into our schedules. And I am learning how to be a wife.
There is a great deal about this marriage that is old-fashioned. I hope that it is old-fashioned like an antique hutch, not an ear horn. An old hutch gets better and more valuable as it ages and is preserved. An ear horn is ridiculous. Google it.
I moved to Colorado while Steven and I were friends and we were long-distance for about a year. In an attempt to end the difficult long-distance relationship, I unknowingly convinced Steven that he couldn’t live without me. He quit his job, found an apartment, and moved to Colorado. Our first date as boyfriend and girlfriend was on Valentine’s Day.
Steven and I did not live together when we were dating or engaged. I moved my things into his apartment right before the wedding. My first night in “our” apartment was the night we returned from our honeymoon. I am ecstatic to tell you that the first time we slept together was our wedding night. It was worth it.
I did not keep my last name. I did not hyphenate my name with his. I dropped my last name and took his. How quaint. I remain a strong-hearted, individual woman.
I also am currently what they call a “housewife.” This may not last for long, but I am enjoying it for now. I get to create the beauty of a home. I do not wear an apron. I spill dinner ingredients directly onto my clothes.
I suppose the most important feature of our marriage is the lack of an exit door. When we said our vows, tears spilled down my cheeks as the weight of my genuine promise of “till death do us part” pressed my soul. At our reception, we toasted our parents and grandparents. Every couple had stayed true to their vows and stood before us as authentic examples. Because we have seen it done, we know this can be done.
We also know it will not be easy. It has not been easy so far, even though we are currently enjoying the honeymoon stage. It seems that the very best things in life are always fought for and are never presented on a silver platter. From the beginning, before we were dating, before we were long-distance, when we were just great friends, we would say of the effort it took to maintain what we had, “This is completely worth it.”
This is an account of something worth a fight to the death- the marriage of Steven and Megan.