Isn't romantic?

My wedding cake topper (Llardo),
my grandparents wedding photo,
and Galt Niederhoffer's novel
 

 The Romantics by Galt Niederhoffer, takes the reader off to the Maine coast for the August wedding of Lila and Tom. The happy couple were college sweethearts. Well they became sweethearts only after Tom stopped dating Laura, Lila's roommate. Laura is to be maid-of-honor at the wedding having stayed friends with Lila and Tom. We are then introduced to the rest of their gang of friends who have convened for the wedding. This clique of friends formed when they were all at Yale. Fellow students called the clique The Romantics as a result of their intermingling relationships.



My grandmother as a
flower girl.

To be honest, I really didn't care much for this bunch of people and Niederhoffer makes them out to be very pretentious and superficial. They certainly don't take friendship or marriage very seriously. Overall those of them that made it to the altar are very unhappy and even Tom and Lila don't seem to be well suited for each other. Marriage is depicted as a social status and a rite of passage more than the sacrament that it is meant to be. No one seems to be working hard at their relationships. And those of us who are married know that it is no picnic and requires lots of patience, endurance, compromise, desire, and love.
The story line takes place over a 24-hour time period including the arrival of the wedding party, the rehearsal dinner, the morning of the wedding, and the big moment. I won't spoil the ending. Let's just say I was a little bit surprised by it, and it lived up to the title.

The depiction of the rehearsal dinner got me to remembering my own. I will admit I was nervous, a bride wants everything to go well. When we arrived, the church was cold (married in early November in New England) and my dad was obviously worried about getting the place nice and warm in the morning in plenty of time before the guests arrived. Speaking of arrival, my in-laws were late and I was getting a little panicked and peeved. Once everyone showed up the rehearsal itself went fine. Off to dinner we went.

Now by the time we arrived at the restaurant my stomach was a little queasy. I chalked it up to being hungry as we were running behind and it had been some time since lunch. A little dinner roll and some salad should help I thought. Next thing I know I need to head to the ladies room. It was awful, before I knew it I'm vomiting and feeling miserable and every female guest knows it. I'm embarrassed because they must think it's my nerves and I know it isn't. There is something seriously wrong with me. I don't remember much more of the dinner except that I said good night to my future husband and drove home. Shortly after midnight I stopped vomiting and I knew it was over.

I managed to get a couple hours of sleep. I showered, ate a piece of toast and went to have my hair done. I came home, had another piece of toast, did my makeup and was dressed in time for the photographer's arrival. The wedding went off without a hitch. The reception was fantastic. Stopped in at home for the after party, and made our farewells to the family and took a limo to the airport hotel to spend the night before an early flight to our honeymoon cruise. Now here's the funny part, in the middle of the night I wake up all alone in bed, my new spouse is puking up his guts in the bathroom. "Okay it wasn't your nerves," he says. Of course it wasn't.  It was a fast moving stomach bug and I made sure everyone knew that fact when we got back home. I can happily say that 23 years later it's still a fun story to tell.