|Sept 28 1979|
So back to DH's parents' house where he was living between the sale of his home in Brownstown and the closing on our new house in Canton. DH calls the insurance agent whose office is at 13 Mile and Dequindre, the title company where closing took place was at 12 Mile and Northwestern, a distance of 15 miles and Friday afternoon traffic. Our wonderful then agent, Conrad, told us not to worry, he would get that insurance policy over right away, just to concentrate on our wedding.
I'm sure I ate breakfast and lunch that day. Well, maybe. Honestly, I can't remember much except for the horrific tantrum my DH had when he came back to his parents' house with the keys to our house with a nasty note attached by the closer. Now, I have to tell you here that I had never seen my DH angry before. His mother gave him a pillow to throw. At the time I was appalled but now I see that throwing something innocuous like a pillow allowed him to vent without harming anyone or anything. By this time, it was well into the afternoon, so I had my soon-to-be DH drive me back to the house that my roommate and I were renting so that I could prepare myself for our nuptials. I had some trepidation at this point, but was more excited about actually getting married and we had the keys to our house, so onward and all that.
Around 6 pm, the bridegroom picked the bride up at her home, and drove her to the church. I'm serious. It was just a small family wedding, so there was no big deal. We got there early. Big surprise. This after all was the guy who was half an hour early for our first date! Father Finnigan had us sign our marriage certificate, he signed, and then we waited for the rest of the party to get there. My folks, DH's parents, my sisters, my brother and appropriate in-laws, and our best man. Actually we waited for my matron of honor, because her husband got lost. Finally, everyone was in place and the priest started: "Anne and Mark ..." and I waited for him to name the rest of the bridal party, but no, he got DH's name wrong! Stop, I said, his name is Bernard, not Mark. (Really what else can go wrong?) With the names straightened out, The RIGHT man and I were finally legally and irrevocably married.
The reception was a small one and included our best man and his date, the aforementioned family members and my roommate. It proceeded without incident and my sister, Diane surprised us with a chocolate wedding cake.
We spent our wedding night at a local Holiday inn. The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast, we were headed back to my house, when I discovered I had neglected to bring my house keys. And we realized we hadn't checked out of the hotel. DH dropped me at my parents' where I made a quick call to my roommate who was working that day, he drove back and checked us out and then we were back in the car to the bank she worked at and then home to retrieve my keys, then back to the bank where she worked to give her keys back, before heading over to our new home. Somehow we got my double bed with frame to the new house. And I'm not sure why, but we didn't set that bed up in the master bedroom, but in one of the extra bedrooms. Since DH had a queen bed, we knew that would be in our master bedroom.
You know, they say it's bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the day of the wedding before it actually takes place. I never understood that. However, since our day was a bit on the sucky side, I feel like we got it all out of our system in one fell swoop. Really, if you can survive a day like that, you can survive just about anything. Would I change anything about the day we got married. For sure, that jerk who treated us like crap at closing would have been hung by his thumbs, but I wouldn't change anything else. After all it's such a great story to tell.
Copyright 2010, ACK for Gene Notes