Some people are worth melting for.
Olaf, character from Frozen
A real marriage believer
I met with a couple who had gotten engaged after two months of dating. Both were in their thirties and assured me, “when you know, you know.”
Our conversation was light, lively and sprinkled with moments of laughter. At one point in the conversation, the groom asked if I was married. When I told him I wasn’t married, a proverbial cloud crossed his face. Concerned, he asked, “you do believe in marriage?”
I later learned that this was going to be his fourth marriage.
Apparently, I don’t believe in marriage as much as he does!
Proving that no happy occasion is happy until someone is miserable
The couple told me they were going to invite each of their uncles to do a reading. Because they did not want the ceremony to be religious, the readings would be selections of poetry. A few weeks prior to the ceremony they emailed me the poems so I could bring back-up copies.
Night before the wedding, the groom emailed to tell me that his uncle would be reading the classic selection from St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians (love is patient, love is kind). I was surprised as this was a switch from his original choice – “Falling in Love Is Like Owning a Dog.”
When I arrived at the venue, I asked the groom why he decided to go with a reading from Scripture.
He told me that his uncle, a “devout” Catholic, informed him that if he wasn’t allowed to read from Scripture then he wouldn’t want to do a reading.
Hmm. . .guess “love” isn’t always patient or kind!
The OCD guest
I pride myself on being calm and collected before a ceremony – but, there is that rare occasion.
I was at a venue with a gorgeous lawn that looks out onto the Pacific. The couple had an arbor created with an asymmetrical floral arrangement on the top horizontal plank.
Fifteen-minutes before ceremony start I had a moment of panic when I spotted a guy attempting to take down the floral arrangement on the top plank.
Turns out, he was the boyfriend of the Maid of Honor and the “crooked” arrangement disturbed him!
He didn’t believe me when I told him that was the design. The event planner finally convinced him by firmly asking him to return to his seat.
The idea that a guest would mess with floral arrangements fifteen minutes before “show time” is beyond breath-taking!
The O.C.D. Mother-of-The-Bride
I arrived at the venue my usual hour prior to ceremony invite time. At one point, as I was scoping out the ballroom where the ceremony was going to take place, a middle-aged woman in an evening gown swooshed in, seemingly from nowhere, and made a beeline towards me. Turns out, she was the mother of the bride.
She looked at me, looked at the floral arch where I would be standing with the couple and abruptly asked if I’d position myself in front of the arch as I intended to stand in the ceremony. She went on to position me under the arch and even behind the arch. She was like an artist arranging a still-life.
Eventually, the event planner joined us and the mother declared to her, “this arch isn’t going to work. It’s too short and he’s too tall.” Yes, she didn’t like the proportions of me or the arch!
The planner had to help the mother confront reality – that it was too late to do anything about the arch – or my height.
I’ve never again been able to look at an arch in the same way.
Dealing with nerves
While speaking with the bride prior to the ceremony, I sensed that something was “off.” I soon learned from the event planner that she’d taken a Xanax with a swig of champagne to calm her nerves.
“Loopy” only begins to describe what she sounded like as she offered her vows! Smile!
And then there was the bride who probably should have taken a Xanax because she was distractingly nervous throughout the ceremony. As I spoke, she made odd contortions with her face so that I thought she was trying to prevent herself from throwing-up – and then I realized she was trying not to cry.
Her facial expressions made her look like she was about to go into a seizure of some sort!
A rose by any other name
The groom, whose legal name I won’t share, insisted that I call him by his nickname, the name that’s on his high school diploma – “Fuzzy.”
Do you know how odd it is to call a grown man “Fuzzy?”