We wrote our own
service, with verses from Khalil Gibran and John Donne.
I made my own dress
of satin and lace, using a borrowed treadle sewing machine. Cousin Mary Beth crafted
a head piece of satin roses.
We found a
Unitarian minister to marry us. God was not invited.
It was 85 degrees
that day, rare for a March 25th in Ohio.
We processed to an electric
guitar tune composed by our friend John.
My bridal bouquet: a
single white carnation.
I forgot my lines
during the ceremony. My maid of honor Beth helped me out.
We recessed to
Beethoven’s Ode to Joy played on the banjo by our friend Joel.
The reception was
held in David’s (our) rented house next to the Student Union.
There were posters
of Timothy Leary and Sigmund Freud on the walls, and paisley curtains.
My mom made
macaroni salad. We had spicecake from the bakery on the square.
We toasted with
André pink champagne.
David’s father was
the photographer. We were all cut off at the knees.
My first college
boyfriend was there. They tell me he got sloppy drunk.
My brother Brian gifted
us with homemade banana wine, still percolating.
My mother gave me a
pink peignoir set for our wedding night.
We kicked people
out at 4:00 a.m., all except Joel who slept over on the couch.
Next morning we
breakfasted at the truck stop on Route 10.
It was a great
start to our 45 years together.
These weddings, so unpretentious are the best beginnings for enduring over the years. Mark & I celebrate our 27th anniversary this yr as well as 29 yrs together. Familiarity hasn't bred contempt or boredom so we figure we are doing well!
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