I’m definitely not the sentimental type; I’m much more matter-of-fact and practical, resisting clutter even if the pieces do have a story, I don’t make much of birthdays, and I’m especially not worried about my own, even those major decade ones. But even I recognize a milestone like a 20 year anniversary.
I wasn’t looking to get married, I’d made other plans for my immediate future as a young adult. But at the same time, I’d been planning my marriage for years. Not the wedding or festivities, that kind of stuff is like a 3 to me. But the marriage, the kind of guy I wanted, what I expected and hoped our relationship would be, that kind of thing I’d taken notes on over the years.
Just a few days ago, I dusted off an old journal from 1994 to remember what it felt like on the eve of our wedding. Like most memories, it seems like a million moons ago, it’s hard to even recall what life was like before, what it was like to be just me in the world. And at the same time I can conjure up the details without even furrowing my brow, it’s all just so accessible. A little surreal to be sending our son to the same place we met; we can’t help but wonder if he’ll also meet his future spouse his first semester of college. We certainly didn’t plan to. We were simply friends who stuck together; how do you analyze falling in love?
We’d become friends over cafeteria food, we met for nearly every meal that first year. Then we dated. By the time he’d spent two years in Norway and we had piles of accumulated letters, we realized what we’d known all along. We were now seasoned 22 year-olds with six more years of schooling ahead. But we felt nothing but peace and calm about each other and our decision to face it all together.
As anxious as we were to get married after dating and writing for over three years, we still had to wait nine months after he returned from Norway to find an available date on the calendar. We had to wait for our siblings to get out of school for the summer, for Todd’s brothers to attend scout camp, and for his family to make the trek to San Diego from Chicago. We eagerly anticipated the wedding and our new life as husband and wife, yet we did our best to stay focused and be patient.
Unlike most any girl I’ve ever known, I never really gave my wedding that much thought. I knew it’d be in the temple, but I didn’t care about the dress or reception at all. I just wanted a simple and inexpensive gathering, classy but basic. It just didn’t matter that much to me. I remember going home during a school break in April and going to the temple for the first time with Todd and my family, which I loved. But I also endured tireless errands like choosing a cake. Maybe we did flowers too; I have no idea. I knew I didn’t want bridesmaids. I didn’t want to make anyone stand in a line or buy a dress she’d never wear again. I simply told our four sisters to wear any kind of navy church dress they could find and that they’d get some use from down the road. Even my dress didn’t concern me too much. I just wanted simple and easy. No train, just straight. True to 90s fashion, it did have puffed sleeves and a huge bow. Good grief. I had it made to save money; I never even went to a bridal shop. I remember the material costing $60. Now it lives in the dress-up box downstairs. I shortened it a few years back so the girls could wear it. I can’t imagine a more comfortable resting spot for it.
So while I was having my dress made in Utah between that break in April and July, my mom and her friends made reception plans. The only input I cared about was that it be navy, my all-time favorite color even now. The reception was in our friends’ beautiful yard surrounding a lake. I loved that my mom’s friends made real food themselves, that we didn’t waste money having it catered and that it was low-key, like us. As I read my journal entries from the days before and after my wedding, repeated are sentiments about being so grateful for everyone’s hard work on my behalf. All the set up, clean up, prep, meals. So nice. I just couldn’t do any of it. I was in Utah, we were working and finishing up the term. I don’t know if I ever thanked them all properly and individually. To be honest, I still kind of worry about that and hope somehow I did and that they knew how much it all meant. It still kind of overwhelms me that so many people would spend their time decorating and cooking and cleaning on our behalf. I’m so grateful, even twenty years later.
Todd and I flew to San Diego from Utah Thursday with the wedding Saturday. We took Todd’s family to the beach. I got my first and only manicure. We returned to the temple Friday for a 7 a.m. session. Had delivered pizzas and homemade cake on paper plates for our pre-wedding dinner. So perfect. So casual. So us.
Saturday morning I woke up early (5:52) because of cat allergies and because I was sharing a bed with my friend, a sleepless night. It never, ever, ever occurred to me to have my hair done or have someone help me with my makeup. The last thing in the universe I would’ve agreed to. Getting my nails done was a stretch. So I just got ready like every other day of my life. And so did everyone else.
I remember the ladies in the temple commenting how calm I was. I didn’t know to be any other way. I knew I was with the right person, in the right place, and even though we were only 22, I knew it was good, I had no reason to be anything but calm.
Two days after we married I recorded in my journal, “We got to the temple at 8:45. It was weird before [and] during the morning because I was so calm. It was as if it was a normal day, like we were just going to the temple like the day before. Nothing fazed me, it was perfectly normal for all of us to be going to the temple it seemed. They took such good care of us! They whisked away all my bags and let me relax. We changed [clothes] and then we were able to sit in the Celestial Room all alone—to reflect and think about it all. Beautiful room, groom, and time. It was wonderful. Then before we knew it, the sealer [the one who would be performing the ceremony] came to get us and into the [sealing room] we went. It was a beautiful room and all our loved ones were there. He talked to us specifically but so everyone could hear. He counseled and advised us. I was cool as a cucumber. But after he told me we were married, the tears began. I was so happy that all I could do was cry. I was so happy to be able to be married there to my best friend whom I love more than anything. It was an incredible feeling. It is peaceful and joyful and good and right. We were told to kiss, and it was the most beautiful and romantic and pure kiss ever. I can’t think of any kiss meaning and conveying as much. It was perfect!
“After kissing over the altar he told us to look in one mirror—symbolizing our our past, the altar was the present, and the other [mirror] was our future. It was beautiful symbolism and it overwhelmed me to know I am sealed to Todd forever. It feels so peaceful now. As much as I couldn’t bear to lose him, it would be ok if we were separated now by death. We are sealed for time and eternity. We are bound together. Everything will be ok. What a beautiful ceremony! I wish I could’ve stayed in that room for a long, long time. We exchanged rings. We were told they were symbolic of our eternal love and that we should always wear them. Then we stood in a “hugging line” so everyone could hug us. It was so nice, I felt so loved. It was wonderful!”
We eventually made our way outside to the temple grounds and, like most families and couples, had our pictures taken. I wish I could change this part of the day. I was grumpy and irritable. I HATE getting my picture taken. I hated being the center of it all. It was all so awkward, such a waste of everyone’s time, I felt. And yet, I wish I had gotten copies. I have a few proofs, but I never ended up ordering any pictures. After spending so much money on even such a simple wedding reception, I didn’t want to spend a dime more. And so I put it off. Indefinitely. I wish that I had been nicer to the photographer. And gotten at least an 8x10. I also never did a bridal picture session before our wedding. I had no idea about that. And it wouldn’t have mattered. Could there possibly be anything worse than to be photographed repeatedly being the main subject? And then having it displayed at a reception? A bit later my aunt insisted I get some, even though it was after we’d been married. So I brought my dress to work at BYU and she brought her young photographer. We got some outside shots, and I do still have them. I don’t love them, but I’m grateful she went to that effort for me. Such a kind thing for her to do.
But back on our wedding day it seemed to take at least an hour to pose in all different configurations. We even had to do that weird hand picture. How young our hands look! Finally we’d exhausted his roll of film and were permitted to meet up with my family and friends at our friend’s house for a delicious and beautiful lasagna lunch. The weather was perfect, the day was just right for an outdoor reception. It was July 16th in San Diego, which could’ve made for a sweltering evening, but it couldn’t have been a more beautiful day.
Everyone was buzzing around that afternoon, I felt out of sorts. I like to be helping, to feel useful. But I had to sit this one out. I do remember getting ready for the reception, changing back into my wedding dress and fixing my hair. But it wouldn’t do a thing because it was so humid. I curled and curled, sprayed, used all my go-to tactics. But I’d forgotten how limp the humidity can make straight hair, and I dismayed but figured, oh well, what do you do?
More pictures. And this was truly another picturesque setting, with lush green grass, a wooden bridge, a lake. It really was so pretty. But I got grumpy all over again, hating this part of getting married. I felt ugly and restless and hated being the main subject in so many photographs. And maybe that’s partly why I never revisited the picture idea.
The reception turned out so nice, my mom had worked so hard with her friends to keep it simple but lovely. The cake was so beautiful, accented with burgundy flowers. The tables were white with navy ribbons. Our sisters and mothers found perfect dresses they could wear again. It was just right. I loved seeing people I had missed over the years, but I was happiest when the line finally disbanded and I could just sit with my friends and eat. Out of the spotlight.
Time came for us to change back into regular clothes and to head out on our own. I hated to leave my family and friends with all that work, and yet I knew there could be no other way. At least tonight. I would take my turn over the years, but culture dictates that we leave quickly and ceremoniously into the night. Married best friends.
Occasionally I’ve wondered what I would’ve changed about the day, you know, when the topic comes up in casual conversation with girlfriends. I wish I could’ve helped more, taken some of the load from my family. It was a lot of work with my mom working full-time and with a limited budget, so I wish I could’ve done it all cheaper. I wish I would’ve been nicer to the the photographer and not been such a brat. I wish I would’ve cared about my dress more. Because I never felt that great in it. I don’t think we had music. I think I would put that in. Because music is such a big part of our relationship; we’d rather have background music than a tv in our house, so I think that would’ve been really nice. But not a dance. (Even though I love to dance. It just wasn’t ever on the idea list, thank goodness.) Maybe had the reception earlier so everyone didn’t have such a long day. And I wish I would’ve purchased pictures. But other than those few minor tweaks, it was just perfect for us. I loved the flowers, the pretty cake, the simple but thoughtful decorations, the setting, the people, having my family and friends with us. It was a special way to begin our life, a beautiful send-off. And I think most weddings are beautiful affairs, whatever that looks like to the bride and groom. Our day reflected what was important to us, and I’m grateful for the careful touches, the time and effort of loved ones. I felt pampered and loved and peaceful. I knew what we were doing felt right. I didn’t know how the rest of our days would turn out, what the years ahead would look like, but we became a team this day, a partnership that would last forever, and it’s those promises that comfort me and give me security in an uncertain world. Regardless of what happens, I know we are bound to each other. We were young by most standards, I know, but we knew what we were doing. We felt confident we could make it.
We spent several years as students, moved across the country and back. We’re raising five kids together. Which is a huge blessing. You just don’t know what kinds of trials will test your marriage over the years. We’ve had a few bumps. But every couple who’s honest about it does. It’s the promises we made to each other on that warm July morning that stick with us, that comfort us and give us security. We know this is the most important relationship in our lives, next to how we feel about God. And so we’re careful with it. We’re not the best, I especially have so much to work on. But I’m grateful for all we’ve learned over the past twenty years, for marriage that is the the foundation of a family. I’m so grateful to be blessed with a husband. Not everyone finds someone to marry. Sometimes things don’t work out. Promises are broken. Life changes us. And our marriages. Some say there are no guarantees. And so I’m grateful for twenty good years. How many more we’ll have, we have no idea. But we know our time on earth is short. And if we’re separated by death, the other would be on the other side waiting. Our sealer in the temple reminded us of that, and it made me cry that day in the temple. Because I knew it was true. That’s why I never cared much about the reception and the flowers. All I really cared about was getting the marriage part right. And just like our reception, where I would’ve made a few minor changes, I would also do things better in our marriage if I could have a do-over. But we move forward, grateful for another day together, for twenty years of living as best friends and spouses, for the institution of marriage, for the deep love that grows from everyday living, and the promise that our love can be eternal.
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