I sat there and watched them exchange their vows, barely able to hear the officiant, wondering why the hell he didn't have a microphone.
I would think they had a ton of errant microphones just running around Disney unchecked.
I was highly irritated, and I was truly unable to get my mind to stop and focus on the scene unfolding in front of me. My heart was still pounding, and I felt as if I were still in motion, and not really there yet.
I managed to focus in and even shed a couple of tears. By the time the ceremony was over, I was about to eat my fist. We made our way to the cocktail hour and I was then accosted by friends asking what had happened to us. In between packing my cheeks full of cheese and then swishing it all down with several gulps of wine, we told our story. The problem was that I still didn't feel as if I was there. I couldn't calm down inside; and I was totally discombobulated.
I was tired of this Cop-Wife life: living on the fly, barely making events, having to settle for crumbs, when in the not-too-distant past, I had my arms wrapped around an entire cake.
I was still fighting the fact that my life had changed so completely. I found there was no good answer...I could have flown down the night before and perhaps avoided all the madness, but then I would have went alone and met Roc...I didn't get married to travel alone...I could have went alone, period...but the same logic came into play there...they could have gotten married locally...not their fault...I could just have a more lackadaisical attitude and learn how to say screw it...but that's not who I am...I could force Roc to quit the police force and demand my old life back...but that would be a hollow victory, and I was smart enough to know that...so...no good answer looked back at me.
By the time the reception rolled around, the bride and groom got wind of what had happened to us...they were just glad we were there...I proceeded to get a little happy and dance in those ugly flat shoes...they took a few pictures with me in the middle, because after all, I was the one responsible for their meeting...and the truth is, there's still some part of me that is upset at having been immortalized looking so badly, staring out from the pages of their wedding album, looking like a hurricane victim.
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You capture the dichotomy so perfectly. I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to coordinate Christmas and get everyone in one room. Silly me! There's no way we can get everyone in one room: when JB is working, and therefore only free 8am - 10am and 5pm - 7:30pm, and there are multiple families and traveling times included, it means, drumroll please, Christmas night without him. And that is the best solution I could come up with, after trying to gerry-rig the rest of the family obligations. It sucks bigtime.
ReplyDeleteI hear ya, Pam. And there's not a whole lot more to say, is there?
ReplyDelete:) SCW Stella
My dad is retiring at the end of the week. He leaves as a Chief of Police. At a retirement dinner earlier this week, a Deputy Chief giving a speech noted that the officers often get credit for their sacrifices, but that the true unsung heroes are the spouses. And it's true. It's easier for us, because we have hot calls and camaraderie to keep us occupied and relieve some of what's missing. We have the excitement of the job to inoculate us to the unexpectedness that comes with the job. Meanwhile, there's SCW Stella and her sisters who sit at home and wonder or worry and suffer the consequences of a public's demand that is often given priority over the marriage's demand.
ReplyDeleteSo I say that to say thanks to you and all police and military spouses who make it all possible.