SHORT STORY/FICTION
Don’t Marry The Wedding, Marry The Marriage
The martial relationship should be more important than the nuptials
“Do we really need that many guests coming?” my soon-to-be husband asked as I sat slumped in a red checkered restaurant-style chair, pouring over the guest list. He continued. “I’d marry you at the courthouse steps. I’d marry you anywhere,” he said in a sweet, sarcastic tone.
“I know you would,” I said, already rehearsing in my mind what he was going to say.
My small silver-rimmed hope chest was filled with the savings I had put aside for the wedding. You only get married once, and I wanted to do it in style. I had saved all my life for this. My cup was overflowing with anticipation of the day it would happen. All the details were being finalized. In all the rush to get things done, I had forgotten to get the marriage license! I’ll have to go downtown tomorrow to City Hall to get it. I worried about it as I went off to bed.
I got up late this morning. I wondered if I had enough time to get the license. I felt so tired. I was six months pregnant with our first child. The doctor said the baby was a girl. I wanted the marriage first, then the baby. I was so old-fashioned until I met Jeff. I told myself I would never cook or clean for anyone I wasn’t married to. I said I would never date men with children. In reality, most men in this day and age have children. He had one child when I met him. A young son. And most men want to live together before marriage. I couldn’t believe I had compromised my principles and moved in with him. Love does that to you. My old-fashioned dreams puffed up in smoke like a flash. The exhaust fumes from the metro bus were suspended in midair as I glanced out the window. I reasoned I would be okay with this reality as I pushed the button to get off. City Hall stood in the distance. The baby was kicking as if she were aware of what I was doing. I walked the sidewalk to the courthouse. I noticed a nicely dressed couple waiting outside. They embraced and went in the courthouse. They were clearly there to get married. A courthouse wedding, I thought. I never wanted one of those. Jeff wanted one but I didn’t. I had saved so much money. You get so little out of a courthouse wedding. Not many people get to come. No pomp. No circumstance. No anything. I noticed what seemed to be an endless stream of couples waiting to get married. This was normal! It was wonderful to see. Some were even dressed in sneakers, jeans, and MTV graphic tees people loved in the 1980’s. Others dressed for the occasion. When I turned to leave, I had a thought. Maybe we didn’t need a big wedding. I could change my mind, couldn’t I? I have always watched couples having big weddings, thinking why people marry the wedding. Was it all about putting on air? Looking good in the eyes of others? Waiting for the approval of loved ones? Had I turned into one of those people who cared so much about the caterers, the band, the invitations, the rings, the venue, the tux, and the dress? I had become what I dreaded. Did it all really matter if everyone else was happy and not myself or Jeff? I thought about it again as I turned the key into the glass-plated door. I had made up my mind. I knew what I needed to do.
Jeff came home from work. I told him what I had done. He sat up straight in his chair.
“Hey Jeff,” I said.
“I canceled the big wedding. We are scheduled to go to City Hall and get married next week. Are you okay with that?” I said it happily.
“Why?” he asks playfully.
“I saw all those lovely couples today getting married with absolutely no fear,” I went on to tell him. “Sometimes we marry the wedding, not the marriage. I don’t think people realize just how much a wedding means to them. The wedding shouldn’t mean more than the relationship,” I stated factually.
“It never did, sweetie, Jeff said. “I said I’d marry you anywhere.”
And he did. We got married at City Hall the following week. I wore my $20 dress from David’s Bridal. He wore a rented tux. At least I had the dress and tux I wanted for wedding pictures. My sister was our witness and handmade the flower bouquets. I had remembered the day so vividly. It was 40 years ago today, July 7th 1984, our wedding anniversary. The money I had saved paid for our daughter’s college education. She has her own family now. She had a small wedding too, come to think of it. So many couples we knew who had big weddings are no longer together. I guess we did indeed marry the marriage, and not the wedding. I’m so glad we didn’t make that mistake. I know now we didn’t need a big wedding. We have a lasting marriage. And that is what counts.
