Reclaiming a Wedding During the Pandemic
A story of Grief, Loss, and Adjusting to Meet Challenges
It was March 2020. We were all there. The world stopped. Grocery stores were cleaned out. Toilet paper was scarce. Everything you ordered online was on back order for months. And I was getting married in five months.
At the outset, the pandemic was scary. But as we started settling into the new routine, we could see it for what it really was: a series of disappointments.
My biggest disappointment in 2020 was losing the wedding that I had planned. It was a small disappointment in the grand scheme of societal problems that plagued others during the pandemic. But, losing my wedding was an awful feeling. And I went through the stages of grief and loss.
The 5 stages of grief and loss as explained by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross¹:
1. Denial
2. Depression
3. Anger
4. Bargaining
5. Acceptance
I went through these emotions over and over again, not in a straight shot to the finish line way, but in a more seasonal, non-linear route. I can remember myself growing in my grief.
I went through this cycle with every state address by Gov. DeWine. I went through it every time someone around me assured me that my wedding in August was so far away, I did not need to worry about COVID-19 affecting it. I later recognized this as societal denial over the length and severity of the pandemic.
The spring came and went. We were still locked down. The summer rapidly rolled through. We were still locked down. The closer we got to the date, we realized that having our wedding as originally planned was a hopeless dream.
I was angry -not at myself or anyone in particular. I was angry at the universe for bringing COVID-19 into our lives and disrupting my once-in-a-lifetime event. I tried bargaining with myself. I asked myself why I did not get married last year with a shorter engagement? Why we did not elope? Why did we not pick a winter wedding date in 2019 or early 2020?
The Decision
After a year and a half engagement, we knew one thing:
We would be married on our wedding date.
We started picking up the debris of our broken plans. We had to make radical changes. One of the hardest was cancelling the reception. The decision came from the intense guilt I felt over my wedding (guilt being part of the extended grief cycle later added after Kubler-Ross’ research²).
Although my husband and I planned for our wedding well before Coronavirus existed, we felt extreme guilt over having an event which could turn into a “super-spreader.” Ohio was allowing wedding receptions, but it would be near impossible to convince everyone to always wear a mask and stay 6 feet apart. And, in addition to obviously not wanting anyone to become infected at our party, the hefty fines that could be imposed for failing to ensure strict compliance with the mask-mandate weren’t something we could risk. After mourning in our grief, we made the decision to cancel the traditional reception.
We opted for an outside ceremony at a park. Anyone who wanted to come could come, but our guest list RSVPs dropped from 250 people to about 75. That was still a large crowd, but it felt small to me considering the large Catholic families that we grew up with.
Compromises Out of Creativity
When cancelling the reception, I knew that there were few things I was willing to let go of. I still wanted to do first dances and speeches. I have six sisters, and this is one of the few times in my life where I have this special moment. I spoke to our officiant who was a close friend. He and I sat down and wrote the ceremony. We added first dances and speeches as part of the traditional ceremony. I was unsure as to how this would turn out. It sounded a little awkward and clunky, but my officiant has a talent for entertaining. He made the transition smooth from first kiss to asking everyone to stay seated for first dances.
My husband and I did our first dance. Forever and Ever, Amen by Randy Travis.
Then I danced with my father. And my husband with his mother.
After the dances, we handed the mics to the two best men, the matron of honor and the maid of honor, respectively. They did their speeches, and my dad finished with his speech. Our officiant announced the recessional and my husband and I walked down the aisle together, married on the day we planned. We greeted our guests and we cut our melting cake in the August sun.
With a Positive Mindset Comes Positive Meaning
It’s easy to get stuck in a negative mindset. There are so many reasons to wish the pandemic hadn’t happened, and I wish it hadn’t. But one (admittedly) selfish reason dominates my disdain for the pandemic — what it did to my wedding. But I made it work. Yes, having a pandemic cancel my wedding plans, was terrible. But looking back, I can either choose to mope over something that no one had any control over, or I can choose to see how beautiful this disaster truly became.
The Helpers
One of the most beautiful things I saw from picking up the wreckage of my wedding was the helpers. And we had many.
My dad built an arch for us to get married under. A neighbor from church supplied the wooden chairs. My brother helped usher guests to their spots and direct the bridal party when a loud voice was needed. A friend and his father brought the sound equipment, officiated the wedding, and also set the pace of my completely unconventional wedding. My brother and friend managed (and did what they could to stop) the unfolding disaster that comes when you’ve got a buttercream wedding cake sitting in the August sun.
My photographer displayed patience with the varying personalities in both of our families and friends, and the varying perspectives of how to control the spread of COVID-19 in a time where no one really knew what was going on.
Our florist went MIA the day before, so my husband and maid of honor bought all the flowers at local grocery stores (four or five shops) and made bouquets themselves. My maid of honor’s father came to the park early to help set up the chairs and the night before the event, he held all our bouquets in his fridge.
My mother, who raised twelve children, started cooking two days before the event so that if someone wanted a bite to eat at the house after the ceremony, they would not go hungry. My father ordered a large tent for the backyard so that everyone could socially distance while eating outside, but not burn in the sun. My mother’s friends set up the music at the house and told stories of their weddings. The day was filled with sweaty smiles and laughter.
Repurposed Items
In another lucky highlight, we were able to repurpose a lot of the items we had bought or made for our originally-planned wedding.
The 10 cases of wine we had ordered before the pandemic? Every guest who attended received a bottle of wine as a favor. Some guests helped themselves to three or four bottles, which we were happy to give, and they were gracious to receive. Guests who could not attend due to out of state residence, sent their condolences and gifts to celebrate our big day.
The decorations that I took months to create? We displayed them outside to showcase our love. I had planned for every table number to have a picture of my husband and I on it — from the year of the number (1988, 1989, 1990, and so on) and starting the year we met the picture was my husband and I together. Instead of not using the table numbers, I added them to two pallet boards for everyone to see the lives my husband and I lived separately and the life we finally started together.
Personal Growth from a Disaster
I think that a big takeaway that I had to remind myself is that life is messy and imperfect. It does not matter if you booked and paid in advance for your dream wedding, had an excel spreadsheet with vendors and an itinerary for the day, had decorations and catering ready to go, and so on. Life just does not always go as planned — even for one of the biggest days of your life.
I look at my situation and humbly remind myself that people throughout time have lost their weddings. War, death, hurricanes, terrorist attacks, and other disasters have all affected weddings. My husband and I are lucky and fortunate that no one who attended our pandemic wedding contracted COVID-19. We also witnessed our closest friends and family members do everything that they could to make this event possible and safe. We had a lot of people needing something to look forward to, some sort of celebration, in a time where there did not seem to be any good news in sight.
Finally, from this disappointment, I learned growth. The pandemic may have taught me hobby skills like canning and gardening, but it also gave me an increased sense of empathy. I saw that people were making the best choices that they could with the resources and knowledge given. I saw the humanity in people stepping up and making my wedding special anyway that they could. I learned that with disappointment and grief, it leads to growth and a new sense of happiness in better understanding yourself and those around you.
