The Wedding--Take One

Tucson, AZ

It was a year ago today, actually, that we two slow-pokes finally committed.  The beauty of waiting was that we didn't have the wedding jitters of, say, two kids with the proverbial shotgun at their backs, but there were downsides to marrying in my thirties (and he in his forties).  First, we had no illusions about what marriage was like--the ugly and the lovely.  We did not have the dewy-eyed bliss that young lovers do, thinking that nothing could tear them asunder and that they had finally become somehow complete (having wandered the earth lacking the other half of themselves until this moment).  What we did have was a beautiful knowing--a knowing that love is an act and a choice not luck and fairy dust, a knowing that we had the power within us to create the relationship we wanted.

There was another downside/upside of having waited to marry:  we had been to A LOT of weddings.  We had seen the outdoor, the indoor, the orthodox and the unorthodox.  We had sat next to Bill Nye, the Science Guy, and watched break-dancers during the salad course atop the Yale Club in New York City.   We had seen a Catholic, agnostic, Protestant, lesbian and even a neuroscientist officiate every kind of ceremony imaginable.  There were weddings in libraries, back yards, tiny chapels and cathedrals.  One bride danced down the aisle to Iggy Pop and another proceeded down the aisle flanked by her loyal dogs.  We had kneeled, stood, prayed and blessed so many times.  How in the world, we wondered, would we ever have a special day that didn't feel like everyone else's special day?

At first, I'll confess, I didn't think it could be done.  I pushed hard for the elopement plan.  After a few tearful pleas from those who wanted to witness this miraculous moment, elopement was out.  Okay.  Back to scratch.  We needed a vision.  What we decided was we wanted an event that everyone felt a part of.  How much money and time had we spent at these many weddings only to glimpse the bride and groom from afar, greet them briefly in the receiving line before popping back on a plane?  Was there a way, we wondered, to make the wedding be an event for everyone?

View from Mt. Lemmon, AZ

The first time we planned the wedding, we were living in the desert of Tucson and wanted our guests to experience the beauty of that landscape.  It would have been a spectacular if not exhausting day.  The nuptials were to take place in the early morning hours at Windy Point atop Mount Lemmon amongst the pines and smooth rocks, looking out over the sunrise and the vast desert floor.  It would have been a casual affair.  Guests would be invited to wear shorts, bring along their dogs, or even bike to the ceremony if they were so inclined.  After a breakfast picnic and some afternoon rest, we'd convene far across town along the twisty desert roads through Gates Pass, amongst the saguaro and prickly pear, to the Sonoran Desert Museum.   http://www.desertmuseum.org/  We'd celebrate to the sounds of Spanish guitar and dine on the exquisite cuisine of the Ironwood Terrace while we listened to the calls of the coyotes in the distance and watched the sun go down. 

Alas, this plan was not to be.  Just a few months before the invitations (featuring, of course, a photograph of a heart-shaped cactus), my now husband's grand Canadian job offer fell into our laps.  After much panic, chaos, and excitement, we pulled up stakes on our desert wedding, and decided to wait.

Sabino Canyon, AZ