Runaway Bride. My Best Friend's Wedding. Father of the Bride. The Wedding Singer.
For some reason, I was drawn to these movies during my pre-engagement period. I would sit with a box of tissues, a couple of girlfriends and a notion of how my wedding should be. It was in the media, in the windows at People's and Birks, with co-workers planning their weddings and pamphlets left on my windshield for wedding shows. You could not escape the societal norm and it stared me in the face wondering, Why are you not a part of this?
The typical wedding was in the air. However, for me, romance wasn't. And I thought the two went hand in hand.
Back to my story.
No one knew about the engagement date except my close girlfriends, family and a few elderly couples known to my father and inlaws, which included the family that introduced us.
The secrecy was killing me. Shouldn't I be shouting it out to the world?
"I am about to enter a LOVELESS marriage! Yeehaw! Be happy for me! Ignite the fireworks! Shout it out in the streets"! Again, the feeling of dread overtook me and I wondered if I, frayed nerves and all, would make it to my engagement.
My father whistled while he worked. He would walk past me and smile gingerly when I was executing on the most mundane chores (mopping, laundry, etc) and I would break out laughing. He was happy but I knew deep down it was bittersweet. Happy to have a commitment and sad to finally let me go. I continued my daily routine but I had to admit, I was entering a stage in my life that I never thought would come this fast. And I pretended that it would just another evening like every other...OK, who was I kidding!!? My nervousness translated into laughter.
Squeeze me?
I was a laughing hyena everywhere I went. My mother-in-law would phone to ask about the preparations and I would giggle. The newpaper boy would collect the dues and I would laugh while paying him. My professor asked a question in sociology class about the economics of marriage. I laughed so hard that I had to leave the lecture hall. I was a bumbling idiot, laughing incessantly that my friends thought I was high most of the time. "I am sure she took something for the stress," I overheard one friend tell another. I laughed at that too. I did't know why everything seemed so funny to me. Perhaps I was thinking this would be last time I laughed--once I realized what I was getting myself into. Or maybe it masked the reality of my situation, to enter a loveless marriage. Would this be something I could laugh about later or would the joke be on me?
My friends led a countdown and every time they would phone, it would be to remind me how many days closer it was to the engagement day. I would usually hang up abruptly but they would call right back and laugh into the phone. Funny game for them, disturbing for me. We weren't young kids anymore--no longer fun and games. This marriage was a clearly a reality and a huge gamble...
One night, as I walked up the stairs towards my bedroom, I passed the wedding picture of my parents. The elegant brass framed photo was in the main hall between the four bedrooms. I stood close to the picture to get a better look. I studied each detail carefully. She wore a red dress and gold jewellery with her hands clasped elegantly in front of her. My father wore a three piece suit, a traditional hat and pants that looked a size too small. His expression was stern and overbearing. She had a demure smile, full of innocence and naivety. I stared at her intently. She smiled back at me. I remained there for awhile until I felt a presence behind me. There was a shadow in the reflection of the glass on the picture. The hairs on my arms stood up. I turned around quickly, expecting to see my father but no one was there.
I opened everyone's bedroom door. "Did you stand behind me when I was in the main hallway?" I asked my father, my brother and then my sister. They were all tucked into their rooms either busy with homework, reading or preparing for bed. The answer was a resounding NO. I closed their doors and returned back to the picture. It was as if I wanted someone to move. Ok Mom, blink if you see me. Twitch your finger, Dad. Do something! Give me a sign. Were you two truly happy in this picture? Will I wear a fake smile while my husband stares sternly into the camera on our wedding day?
Remember, when I asked for signs, they did not come. It was a feeling that enveloped me instead. I knew someone stood behind me but who? I had no dreams of my mother for months and I thought it was because she was happy about my decision. For selfish reasons, I wanted her to come again. The more I expected it, the more disappointed I ended up. Until the day before my engagement.
It was a Friday afternoon. I had studied the night before and then worked that morning. When I came home, I ate lunch and then headed to my room to take a quick nap. I was nervous about the engagement and figured I would clean up the house when my father came home from work and my brother and sister came home after school.
No one was home so I headed upstairs to lay down. I was on my right side and I slowly drifted off to sleep. And then I dreamt.
I was standing in an open pastoral green field. The sun was shining, birds were chirping and there was not a cloud in the sky. The breeze felt warm upon my face and I lay down in the field and fell asleep. I woke up in my dream to find that dark clouds had rolled in, thunder was clapping and the winds were blowing me around. I tried to fight the winds but they lifted me up off the fields and threaten to throw me into the air, away from where I felt safe. I cried out but no voice came out of my mouth. I tried again, this time to scream, but no one heard me.
I felt myself coming out of my dream but I could not open my eyes. My body was heavy but my mind was alert. I felt my chest begin to heave and I tried to let out a sob. Again, no sound came out. I could feel the spasm of fear erupting in my chest but before it became intense, I felt someone sit down at the side of my bed. I tried to open my eyes but I couldn't. And then I felt a hand on top of my hand. There was no temperature--the hand was neither cold or warm. I tried to move my hand in response to this touch but I could not move. What soothed me was that I recognized the touch. My panic dissipated and I felt a calm envelope me. The winds stopped blowing and I returned to my original patch of green field where I had laid down. And as I stared into the sky I was slowly awakening from my dream.
I could still feeling something or someone sitting on my bed and this feeling lasted for a full minute. No matter how much I tried to open my eyes to see her, something prevented me from doing so. Why? Why won't you let me see you? I had to settle for her touch. As soon as she came, she left just as quickly and when I felt the bed rise back up, my eyes flew open. My room looked the same as it did before I fell asleep.
The only difference was not physical in nature. It was the resolute tranquilness that remained.
She had been in front of me when I admired her picture. She was behind me while I pondered my future in the hallway. She was beside me when I felt lost in the field.
Darling, don't look for just one sign...the signs are everywhere, I heard her whisper, as the winds died down.
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