Planning my wedding with my mother was like trying to mix oil and water with a lot of venom thrown in. Dad advised he would show up, approve of whatever for the wedding and pay for it. He had a budget, we were not to know what that budget was. Control Freak was not yet a term.
I had teased my mother from the first time I saw her wedding picture. She and my dad married very quickly before he was shipped to Japan. They married in tiny town Kentucky on a river, in the un-airconditioned church where my mom grew up, on July 31, 1945. There isn't a word for the heat and humidity in that environment. I am surprised every woman in the old south did not die from all those corsets and petticoats and skirts, mercy, I would have had the vapors 24/7. My mother wore her best suit for the wedding because her mother told her to. A wool suit with a wool hat. My dad wore his "blues", also wool. I asked her, "why didn't you go to Owensboro and get something cotton and frilly and COOL?". "Mother told me I had to wear my best suit", she said. Poor mom, she never got to think for herself.
Well, mommy dear, this was my wedding and I wanted an ivory gown, bridesmaids in deep purple or dark dusty rose with loose straight hair. I would carry purple irises and the bridesmaids carry white roses. I wanted no organ music but a string quartet. I wanted Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring, And I Lover Her, Spring from Vivaldi Four Seasons and a clarinet and piano to play Rhapsody in Blue. I considered the best piece ever written at the time. It was different, I didn't care. Ave Maria for the bridesmaids and then the traditional march from Lohengrin. I wanted to get married at 11:00 a.m., leave the church, go to a country club or elegant hotel for brunch. Then all the "adults" could leave after the traditional pictures and cutting of the cake and the people I really liked and I could party. NO RECEPTION LINE. I hated them. NO, I WAS NOT HAVING ONE.
First we went to buy my dress. We went to the discount bridal shop. Dad was not paying retail. Mother picked out all these white gowns. "Try these on", she smiled at me and the Bridal Shop lady. Mom always behaved "properly" so she was the happy excited mother of the bride. "I won't wear those". Mom smiled, "just try one on". "No, mother, look at me you I am pale. In a white dress I look like Casper. NO". "Honey", she said, "it's traditional". "You mean VIRGINAL, mom?" "If you make me wear white I will also wear a sign on my ass that says, "I AM NOT A VIRGIN". I got the dress I wanted, well, I found it. Ivory satin trimmed in Chantilly lace and the mantilla veil I always wanted. The dress cost $135.00. We called dad, money bags as I now thought of him, and he drove to the shop. "A HUNDRED AND THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS FOR A DRESS YOU WILL WEAR ONCE?" "Yes, dad, I can find one more expensive if you'd like". I thought he might have a breakdown while he wrote the check. This was the only easy piece of the whole mess, I mean wedding.
"Look", said dad one night. "I cannot afford the wedding you want". "You had money to send me to college, use that." "No, that is college money, wedding money is different". "You mean money spent on brother is OK, money spent on me is as measly as possible, gee, do you see the surprise on my face". We were very close. "We will use the church organ and I will choose the music. You may have Jesu and Spring and Lohengrin. I will select the other pieces and hymns". "Hymns?" "Yes, hymns". "Could I have a soloist instead?" "No".
Then mother chimed in, "you know dark colors aren't done for a spring wedding we need pastel for the bridesmaids." "Mother, you know I hate that". "It would be so pretty a nice soft blue, and those hats". "Hats?, no, flowers in their hair." "But the hats would make the look". "What look?" "Like nice southern belles". We could actually use different colors of pastels, It would be so pretty and the dresses are on sale at the discount shop".
Money bags made all the rules so I had my mother's wedding.
I still thought just maybe Paul might take me aside and beg me not to do this. Sometimes I thought I saw longing in his thighs, I mean eyes. Shit. This was all such a horrible dream. Please God let me wake up.
Finally it was my wedding day. Callie and Alan were here, she was of course in my wedding. This fact was the one thing I was most excited about for my wedding. We all got dressed and music started. The bridesmaids made their walk down the aisle. This was the moment I take my Dad's arm and he says something wonderful to me. Something memorable and loving I wanted this moment with my dad. I took his arm.
I heard the fanfare begin on the organ, saw the people rise in the church and dad said, "it is not too late to stop this mess you are making here, I can stop this now". "I think it's too late, dad". And then he walked me down the aisle. Of course Paul was there, in the wedding party, standing up for his brother. The Beast whispered in my ear, "he's going to stop this and take you out of here......NOT", and he laughed so loud I hardly heard the minister or the priest, yes, we had both. I was triple dog married, in my church, in his church and in the eyes of the law.
I will spare you all the details but my wedding pictures look like Neapolitan sherbet in hats with ugly flowers. The reception was in the "fellowship hall", (gym), at the church. After the receiving line we had punch and cake. Special, every girl's dream.
Nine days later I stood in another church watching Paul marry HER. They had decided to get married very suddenly. Nine days and marriage number 1 was over. I mean it took two years but it was over when Paul said "I do" to HER.
This is what I remember about being married to Who? He would say to me, "that's not how mom did that". I would say, "maybe you should go live with mom". He would say, "you don't have the gifts God gave a screw driver". Me, "big talk from a man who can't use a screw driver". Who?, "Don't use words you cannot spell.", Me, "Am I talking over your head again?". We were so happy.
Divorce, the first in my family and certainly this first in his very, very Catholic family. I was almost 22. So far I was batting a thousand.
When I moved back in to my parent's house, my father came to talk to me. I had 2 months to find a job and get out of his house. I was now considered a "used car". Only a certain kind of man would have a used car. I had lost that "new car smell". I had completely screwed up my life and if I didn't turn it around now I would be a pathetic, lonely woman, or worse, (whore). "I could be wrong but I don't much think so". If I had a dollar for every time I heard that sentence I would be so rich.
I needed out alright and soon. OCD got worse and soon I had physical ailments as well. Being a young adult was just what I thought hell would be.
I am just about to enjoy my life, I didn't know it yet, but something exciting was going to make things so different. But don't worry, nothing works out.
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