Wedding Video

by | Nov 11, 2011 | 1 comment

This morning I watched my wedding video.  Somehow it must have come up with Audrey, and I, yes I, suggested watching it if she’d like.  So, after breakfast, at the kitchen table, on my laptop- we watched me getting out of a white limo, smiling…we watched her dad standing at the altar- waiting anxiously.  And there I was walking down the aisle, so slowly- so nervously.  And being handed off by a tearful father.  

I don’t think Audrey noticed how much I cried while I pointed these things out, “See, there’s mommy- I look like a princess right?”

We watched the whole thing- she wouldn’t even let me fast forward the long first dance we had, or your brother’s long toast.  There is so much talk throughout about our life together.  The pastor praying over us for this fruitful, new union and home we were starting.  Your brother’s toast.  The Korean tea ceremony afterwards where I dressed in my hambuk and your parents tossed dried fruit into the scarf we held out to represent blessing and future offspring.  Everyone, I realize, seemed to expect that this was just the beginning of something that was to last our whole life on earth.  It did- your whole life was just a lot shorter than anyone had imagined.  The day after I buried you would’ve been our six year anniversary.

Those five little words seem small amidst the flowers and candle-lighting, hors d’oeuvres  and wine and dancing and cake cutting and guest signing “We wish you a wonderful life together”  “What a great couple,” “May God bless your life together…”   They’re in the shadow though, in the background beneath the dance music and glasses clinking together- this, the most joyful day of your life, but intrinsic in that joy is verily the prelude, should you be the one left behind first, to the most painful moments of your life.

“Til death do us part.”

Something is over.  In the deepest levels of my existence something is finished, done.  My life is divided into before and after.  A friend of ours whose husband died young said it meant for her that her youth was over.  My youth was already over.  But I know what she meant.  Something is over.

Sorrow is no longer the islands but the sea.

Prof Nicholas Wolterstorff, “Lament for a Son”


November 11, 2011

1 Comment

  1. megan

    the prelude, should you be the one left behind first, to the most painful moments of your life.

    my security word was Cello.


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You May Also Like…

List-making in a Dark Time

List-making in a Dark Time

For any other list-makers out there, I published this on HerStories yesterday.""In this time of quarantine, my lists are offering me space outside of the walls of my home, a way of making sense of chaos, a self-imposed structure on structure-less days, and even a way...

Simple Things

Simple Things

"In our deepest self we keep living with the illusion that we will always be the same." Henri Nowen "It's really very simple," my late spiritual director, Gladys, once said to me. She was talking about how she lived each day, waking up, having a written conversation...

Continuous Living

Continuous Living

"Anxiety turns us toward courage, because the other alternative is despair." Paul Tillich I've claimed "seasonal affective disorder" for years, and that may be so, but I'm starting to realize it's not only summer to fall that is hard for me. It's winter to spring, and...