The #Perfect Man...#wedding not so much

Dec 1

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @JenSquard

Since we are done having babies (which is insanely hard on a marriage), my hubbard, Brian, and I have been closer than ever. We got married a little over 4 years ago, and I would marry him again in a second. Anyways, we have had such an amazing month together, I remembered this story that I wrote to a local newspaper. This story was my gift to him that year (plus it won us a free dinner at the most expensive yummiest place in town!), as I wanted him to never forget that I know he's awesomesauce in all the right ways.

Just like every other bride, I spent the months leading up to my wedding planning and preparing, perfecting every little detail. I wanted a beautiful wedding, but also a unique experience that really showed our personalities. I handmade everything, our save-the-dates showed us holding signs with the info, our invitations were puzzles to be put together by the invitee, even our candles were all homemade. I chose the perfect date and time, late in August, at sunset, a time of year known for beautiful weather and sunsets in Western Colorado. I picked a wonderful location, the amphitheater behind the Botanical Gardens. I set the stage for an event that no one would ever forget. Personalized matches for our guests to light sparklers during our first kiss were bought. In case it got warm, elegant colorful fans would serve as our programs, and our favorite drinks, iced tea and lemonade would cool everyone down. Our favorite songs were chosen to play at the ceremony, and our favorite people were chosen to stand beside us at the alter. Absolutely everything was in place, I was ready for the happiest day of my life.

The big day rolled around, and we set off on our own paths to prepare. I met up with my girls to get beautiful, and my fiancé finished decorating the reception hall. Three o’clock came, and it started raining. “Don’t worry, Mom, it’ll clear. It’s August, it never rains at sunset.” And so it stopped raining. Perfect day back on track. Time was flying, and I arrived at the ceremony site to get dressed in a special tent set up on the lawn that I would be walking out of, directly onto the aisle. It looked beautiful, the chairs were in perfect rows, but there were no sides on my tent. Now I’m not a shy girl, but I’m not ready to put on my gown with everyone watching. So I waited. The rental company finally found and brought the sides, but they were the wrong sides. So I waited more. In my truck, in the parking lot. About thirty minutes before the ceremony was supposed to begin they got the correct sides, and I snuck past the torrents of guests to get into my tent and into my gown. Problem solved.

I got into my gown, we all giggled, the nerves explode, but things were perfect. Until I felt a drop on my head. It’s raining, no, pouring, and the tent is leaking. Goodbye sunset, hello black sky. Perfect. The music starts, and the girls leave the tent to walk down the aisle. “At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are …over-ooovverererer.” Seriously? Nice job DJ, can we get it together? The song stops skipping, and my song starts. I unzip the tent, step onto the blanket of rose petals, take my first step forward, and get yanked back. My veil is stuck in the zipper! I am alone, dangling there, with a hundred of my closest friends and family turning their freezing, soaked faces to see my plight. After a few minutes of embarrassed struggling, my veil ripped from my hair, and I continued on my way.

Fast forward through the monsoon ripping the top off of our arch, and all of the handmade candles getting waterlogged, and we are ready for our first kiss as husband and wife. The guests desperately try to light their sparklers, but no such luck – they, too, are waterlogged. As I watch them struggling, I notice that they are using my beautiful programs as rain shields! My heart was breaking as I remembered spending weeks making those. With a background of three lit sparklers, we kissed. Who needs fireworks? Being a hopeless romantic, he turned to dip me, slipped on the wet concrete, and nearly dropped me off the edge of the stage! Is there anything else that could go wrong? No, it stopped raining, everyone is cheering, and someone even brought me my veil. We are good, right? Not so much. Once the rain stopped, the mosquitoes came out and feasted on all of my exposed flesh, my favorite bite being the one between my eyes, swelling up and making me look like a Neanderthal. Beautiful.

Finally we got into our limo, and after all of that time showing my grace and laughing it off, I broke down. Why did I spend so much time making everything perfect? What was the point? As I cried onto my new husband’s shoulder, he took my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, “Sugar, we’re married. You just made me the happiest man in the world, no matter how things went. Anyways, no one will ever forget a wedding like that!”

So after all the choices – the perfect date, the perfect time, the perfect gown, the perfect everything, it turns out only one choice mattered – the perfect man.