Herein you will find my story, the tale of a poet, filled with reflections on engaging genuinely and fully with this world, this life. It is a romantic tale, and unabashedly so. It began with falling in love, and it has grown from there, as my lady love and I married, and then set out, hand in hand, on a grand adventure in living, and learning to live.
My memories of our wedding day are a kaleidoscope of perfect moments.
Kathy coming down the stairs in her wedding gown, which was made by her great-grandmother for her grandmother. She literally takes my breath away. Pausing at the landing, as Van Morrison sings "love, love, crazy love" in the background, she smiles - and the universe shifts its focus. Holding her hand, Connor, her nephew, walks her down the aisle. In our living room. We are married in our living room. I can feel the moment we made that decision and it still feels right.
Each of us, in turn, cries during our vows. Dahlia's words are perfect. (Not only is she our Officiant and friend, she is a poet.) Kathy's words are perfect. And so are mine.
I cannot take my eyes off of my new wife all day. There is no one else.
The sun sets with a glow that lights us all (25 if you count family, friends, groom and bride) as we ride down to the Lincoln Memorial in our trolley. We have dreamed of this. Darkness at the Jefferson Memorial, but it is lit up beautifully. Everything makes a perfect background for us.
Dinner at Oya is everything we could want. The cake from Sticky Fingers is out of this world. And the vintage cake topper we found online fits just right. Surrounded by family and friends. A circle of love unbroken, celebrating ours.
My son, Casey, delivers a beautiful speech during dinner. He speaks of my happiness in a way that makes it clear my happiness matters to him. What a young man he has become. What a proud father I am.
By the time Kathy and I arrive at Hotel Palomar, we are exhausted, but exhilarated by the day, the love, the wedding, the people who were there for us. And Kathy is more beautiful than any woman has ever been. Of this I am certain.
b Kathy and I were married November 21, 2009. Twice. Because the District of Columbia would not allow our friend Dahlia to officiate at our wedding, but the Commonwealth of Virginian would and did, Kathy and I were married first and legally down by the Potomac River that Saturday morning. It was a perfect moment to begin a perfect day.
We met early and drove down to a park in Old Town Alexandria, a few blocks from where I used to live, where we were able to walk out over the water and be married in a quiet moment of simplicity and grace. We spoke a few words, signed our papers, and were wed. And as much as I might from time to time have wanted marriage law in D.C. to be other than it is, I could not have wished for a better, more peaceful way in which to become husband and wife.
The ceremony later that day was our wedding, but that morning, we were wed, and it will stay in my mind as a soft, sweet memory of how our married life began, quietly, in each others' arms, and in the solace of a gentle riverside moment.
b The night before the wedding, we wanted no formal rehearsal. We are bringing two families together, and we want that to be a meaningful joining. So we opted for a casual event: Kathy's family and mine, seasoned with a spaghetti dinner prepared by Kathy's mom, Pat. We mingled, we talked, and we even played 'ice breaker' games - one led by Karen, Kathy's sister, and the other by Kathy, who had put the time into developing a Jeopardy-style Getting To Know Us quiz. I had originally been hesitant to embrace the idea of such activities. My mistake. They were great moments, enjoyed by all, though folks did seem to get a bit competitive over the Jeopardy game!
Some of the stories told about me were new, and quite touching, even as they were humorous. Sheryl, my son's girlfriend, told of her trepidation upon the occasion of first meeting me, after having only known me by my deep, sometimes scary Dad Voice, on the telephone. And the recounted memories of Kathy only served to reinforce my faith in her, with tales of how she had been there when needed, providing solace as she does now to me each day.
Everyone got along so well, it seemed to confirm the union we are making. And it revealed anew our remarkable families, to whom we owe so much of who we are. They came together for us, and the spirit of the moment was one of joy and welcoming. Meant to be.
b My posts will not always recount events in the order in which they occur. Rather, they will be made as I am able or inspired to write them. Thus, posts about the wedding and honeymoon will come later, even though I am married more than a week now.
On the day of our return from five perfect days in Lake Placid, Kathy flew off to Lesotho for two weeks. There, she was greeted with song and dance - as was only fitting. My heart sings and my spirit dances whenever she appears.
And I struggle with her absence, for she is my home, now.
I Remain
My alarm pierces a vivid dream of doors And familiar voices. With no one to hold me I relent And rise. I dress to exercise, swapping That old shirt you abhor for the one I got As a souvenir, after riding a bob-sled On a mountainside with you in Lake Placid.
Downstairs I hunch over my cereal alone, Balancing on the edge of the couch, Wondering where your flight Has so far gone. A few minutes of low impact And then some stretches. I am done. You think I’ve lost too much weight As it is.
I shower then dress, donning One of your favorite ties. Imagining your reaction, I spike my hair for that mischievous smile You wear so perfectly, and might Were you not between here And Johannesburg. Or more honestly, I do it for the smile I wish I could see In front of me right now.
I finally have my ring and that is a certain comfort, But it reminds me too that we are wed And too soon apart. Nonetheless I know That I am closer to the sky since our vows. So I pause my morning for the Writer’s Almanac As you always do.
I practice the new song I learned on our honeymoon, The one about the roses and how I could not leave you there - the one I learned To stir you And to satisfy myself, For these are now the same.
Then as I am shutting down the lights, I see the bed unmade. Your ghost Graces the curves of the tussled sheets, And I wish to leave that image Undisturbed. But I make it neatly For it has aired as long as you could wish And I want everything bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbReady for your return.
