“Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam…And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva…So tweasure your wuv.” ~~ the Princess Bride
I’ve been fairly MIA online – my blog, Twitter, Facebook – for months for one reason only: I’m getting married on September 5th. This year.
I had intended on cataloguing my adventure here to share with you, and to have a record to look back on and blissfully reminisce. That hasn’t happened. Not even close.
The past four months, essentially, have seen me filled with anxiety, being truly overwhelmed with tasks, and feeling powerless and over-stressed while trying to plan things, organize things, attend things, and still find time to work at my second job so I can actually pay for things. In April 2014 our Wedding Savings Account for the September 2014 celebration had a balance of $25. Yes, the cost of two Big Mac combos at McDonalds would have wiped out our “savings”. That isn’t to say we don’t have a budget for the wedding ($1,000); we just don’t have the money to pay for that budget. Yet!
I expected a little bit of chaos and Bride Brain. What I did not expect – being the unemotional, logical robot that my beloved teases that I am – was the emotional toil that would occupy this process. Even though my “dream wedding” was not going to happen, I decided to still bring out my wedding book (circa 1994) and pursue through it. Some songs or ideas may still be salvageable, right?
And some of it is. Except when I look at the section with names and contact information for those intended to be on the guest list.
Now, I’m having a very small wedding ceremony at Town Hall, followed by a dinner with only family and 3 5 friends, so the guest list is a sliver of a fraction of what is listed in my book. Tiny sliver. Many people in that Guest section wouldn’t have been invited anyway. The emotional part was realizing that almost half of the noted intended guests are no longer living.
At the age of 18, for the first time, I lost a friend and attended a funeral for someone literally “in the prime of their life”. It devastated me. Each year since that, up to today, I’ve lost at least one friend or family member each year. Yes; EACH YEAR. One particularly horrible year in my early twenties, I attended five funerals, and only two for someone over the age of 25. Some have been from accidents; some from sudden illness; some from drawn out illness; some at their own hand; some at the hands of others, whether intentional or not; some after a long lifetime. Regardless of the cause, the end result is the same – the person is no longer with me.
Over the years, I have said goodbye to approximately 40 people, and I’m not even 45 yet. It’s probably the cause of my separation issues and aloof relationships with others. The more you engrain a person into your life and heart, the more it rips both to shreds when they disappear from it. It is the Circle of Life so I’ve been told, but I don’t need to like it at all. I carry the fear with me each and every day that someone will be leaving permanently. A palatable fear that shadows over all that I do, and it will not stop just because on a particular day I’m suppose to be happy.
On my wedding day, amongst the smiles and laughter, while celebrating the beginning of the journey for my new chapter in life, in my mind will be all the people who are not there to celebrate with me. Each of them is sorely missed. Their walks through the neighbourhood of life had their sidewalks end a little too soon for me.