Josh and I are nearly half-way through our engagement. The list of things I have to accomplish never diminishes. When I steal time with him, with family, or with friends away from planning, I feel a little guilty. Like I should somehow spend 5 months thinking about a single day non-stop. The truth is, most of my “planning” is actually surfing the internet, having a hard time making up my mind, changing my area of research on a whim, and doing my best to keep from making a final decision about anything. Then, periodically I glance at a calendar, do a mental calculation of the time remaining, and fall into a puddle of tears. Thank God for friends who don’t mind mopping up a little salt-water.
Thank God also for friends who come bearing cookies, offers of help, and reminders that when the big day arrives, what matters is that we’re getting married. That everything else can fall to pieces, and as long as we vow to love and cherish each other for the rest of our lives, the wedding will be a success.
This is clearly something that every married person has been told on their own journey towards “I do.” I know this, because every married person who asks about stress follows their query with the same assurance. It’s like a mantra, and I have a sneaking suspicion it isn’t entirely true. Honestly, if the reception hall were to catch fire and we all had to evacuate before making it through the buffet line, I’d be grateful for the safety of my friends and family, and I’d be terribly happy to have my husband, but I would feel like the party itself was a bit of a failure.
I’m in need of a constant reminder that a wedding only marks the beginning of a new adventure–one with so many ups and downs. Is it okay if that realization doesn’t sink in until later?