We are taking a trip to Sweden in a couple of weeks and this has necessitated the use of an original birth certificate, stamped by the state of Michigan, to send to the passport office.
I had a notarized copy of my certificate, but the passport office nixed it and asked for an original. Viewing this as an opportunity to get another original copy, I went online to the State Of Michigan and filled out the form to order a certificate. The website cannot verify my identity. Then I went to the county clerk website - they also cannot verify my identity and give me a birth certificate. According to the state - I don't exist - or at least I canno be verified.
Wild thoughts about my conservative parents getting me at JC Penneys - or being involved in some secret plot to get a child went whirling through my mind. Then reality set in and I decided that being adopted in the 60's entitles you to the run-around and a secret location for your birth records.
I made some phone calls. Apparently, records from the original birth parents are burned at that time - or at least that is what my folks were told. Because of the shroud of secrecy that surrounds adoptions of yesteryear, I have to jump through several hoops to get a copy of my birth certificate. Weird. I am not trying to find my birth parents, I'm not starting a revolution, I just want a verified copy of a certificate to prove I am a citizen. And it begs the question - I was born in a little hospital in Southfield Michigan - to a 19 year old mother - on an odd birthday - how tough would it really be to find out who my birth mother is if I wanted to know?
Made me wonder -why do we feel the need to keep these secrets as a society? Why do we bestow shame and secrecy on a woman who had enough guts to carry through an unplanned pregnancy and bravely give her child a shot a better life? It is one of the things that has always bothered me. Frankly, I don't need another set of parents, mine are fine. But I would like her to know I am fine, I am happy, my kids are great and I think my daughter probably looks like her.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Out of the Loop edited
I had to remove yesterday's post because the focus was in the wrong place. I was angry that people in my family seem to be allowed an opinion - seem to think they are smarter or better able to handle things and seem to get away with everything. I however, get held to task for pretty much every mistake I ever make. I am tired of being the off-kilter one.
I was having my own personal pity party, shared with fellow bloggers.
I did not mean to imply that my friend is a schmuck - which is apparently how it came off. I felt like my mom was monopolizing her friendship - not because of her, because of my mom. After talking to my friend, I realized that I am having some issues with my mom that I need to work on.
Anyway - this is a public apology- I didn't mean to bash her - I just needed to vent my frustration about the family boundaries adn she unfortunately got tangled in the middle of it.
Thank you for the kind words - I feel better now and hope to post soemthing more uplifting than yesterday's whining!
I was having my own personal pity party, shared with fellow bloggers.
I did not mean to imply that my friend is a schmuck - which is apparently how it came off. I felt like my mom was monopolizing her friendship - not because of her, because of my mom. After talking to my friend, I realized that I am having some issues with my mom that I need to work on.
Anyway - this is a public apology- I didn't mean to bash her - I just needed to vent my frustration about the family boundaries adn she unfortunately got tangled in the middle of it.
Thank you for the kind words - I feel better now and hope to post soemthing more uplifting than yesterday's whining!
Friday, May 13, 2005
Ain't love grand?
I wrote this after the first day I had talked to Justin on the phone- posted it back in June, but some of the words keep replaying through my head today, so I thought I'd repost it.
Just in time – how appropriate the title
Not looking for romance or to fill a void
Running from the bridal bouquet
Yet some force continued pressing
Pushing, drawing, moving us
Closer, almost in the way of each other
Until there was no longer a path of resistance
My heart has kept hope burning
Despite betrayal, despite the pain
The beliefs of a little girl:
That love exists without boundaries
That two people can be happy together
That I have another half who is also
Angry that it is taking so long to find each other
The disembodied voice continued calling
Though its existence remained silent on my lips
Even when I could not see you, I could feel you
Your hands on my trembling skin
This I will keep only to myself
The precious treasure of another soul
One like me, with scars stronger than flesh
Delicious moments of seeing beneath the pelt
Into the soft pink flesh beneath the surface
Into the heart and the tender shrouded soul
Looking deep into your eyes,
Hearing the fear in your voice too
Frightening to see the commonality
With my own soul, my own life, my own scars.
Just in time – how appropriate the title
Not looking for romance or to fill a void
Running from the bridal bouquet
Yet some force continued pressing
Pushing, drawing, moving us
Closer, almost in the way of each other
Until there was no longer a path of resistance
My heart has kept hope burning
Despite betrayal, despite the pain
The beliefs of a little girl:
That love exists without boundaries
That two people can be happy together
That I have another half who is also
Angry that it is taking so long to find each other
The disembodied voice continued calling
Though its existence remained silent on my lips
Even when I could not see you, I could feel you
Your hands on my trembling skin
This I will keep only to myself
The precious treasure of another soul
One like me, with scars stronger than flesh
Delicious moments of seeing beneath the pelt
Into the soft pink flesh beneath the surface
Into the heart and the tender shrouded soul
Looking deep into your eyes,
Hearing the fear in your voice too
Frightening to see the commonality
With my own soul, my own life, my own scars.
Predators
I discovered some time ago to trust my instincts. Occasionally some fleeting thought will come to me and I have found that if I follow that, my life turns out better. The same is true for my instincts about people. This sounds odd considering my past history with men - well truthfully , the Ogre got in under the radar. If you have a person who is very skilled at deception - even to the point to deceiving themselves into believing they are a good Christian man - I think that person could get in under the radar - I consider it a glitch.
I have found myself lately feeling overly protective about my daughter. This is difficult because I trust her, but I also see some of myself in her and I am concerned about her choices. Mostly as this pertains to men. Unfortunately, I have been dating since I was about 13. Early on I was blessed by some , well, overly testosteroned but otherwise nice guys. If I had to choose, I would let guys like these date my daughter. They had good families, they were active in church, they had aspirations and plans to go to college.
Somewhere along the way, things changed for me. It involved a certain Italian who just broke my heart and my spirit, and it took me almost 20 years to recover. But I digress - though I actually had a point. I am concerned because I know that falling for the wrong man - can change the course of your whole life and worse, it can change how we perceive ourselves.
The instinctive part of me has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I have this image in my mind of one particular person saying" well, you know that is how predators work. They go after the weakest one because that is the most likely to fall". We were talking about the ducks, but the consistency of sexually tinged conversation made it clear that the predator was not in fact the neighbors cat. Comments have been made that are not appropriate in polite conversation. Do I think he has aspects of his personality which give him the potential to be a good friend - absolutely, but those are not the aspects governing his life right now. Worse is the fact that I just cannot convince the girls that I know this kind of man - hell, I've slept with this kind of man before - the kind who lulls you into complacency because you think he has accepted you refusal of his bed and decided to just be your friend. There is always a climactic event - where he drugs you, or you are too drunk, or to comfortable or worse, start to believe he actually loves you - and bad things happen. It astounds me that people who have seen him get one girl pregnant and then sleep with another girl would believe his motives are pure - or that he is worried about his ego. He isn't, he is just trying another method - if he can't convince you by his prowess, he will seduce you with his charm. I have seen this trick - I have been a victim of this trick and unfortunately so have a couple of my girlfriends.
I am so troubled - partly because my daughter doesn't believe me - and partly because she is choosing to believe others who have not shown great judgment.
Why do we sell ourselves short? Why is is so unbelievable that some day a man will find us so intriguing that he will call - even if he has to work in the morning? And I wonder why we have to hit those brick walls over and over again. We need to start out the way we mean to end - to borrow Lora's phrase - if we start by doing all the work and all the calling - you will be the one pursuing and that sells a woman short.
I have found myself lately feeling overly protective about my daughter. This is difficult because I trust her, but I also see some of myself in her and I am concerned about her choices. Mostly as this pertains to men. Unfortunately, I have been dating since I was about 13. Early on I was blessed by some , well, overly testosteroned but otherwise nice guys. If I had to choose, I would let guys like these date my daughter. They had good families, they were active in church, they had aspirations and plans to go to college.
Somewhere along the way, things changed for me. It involved a certain Italian who just broke my heart and my spirit, and it took me almost 20 years to recover. But I digress - though I actually had a point. I am concerned because I know that falling for the wrong man - can change the course of your whole life and worse, it can change how we perceive ourselves.
The instinctive part of me has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I have this image in my mind of one particular person saying" well, you know that is how predators work. They go after the weakest one because that is the most likely to fall". We were talking about the ducks, but the consistency of sexually tinged conversation made it clear that the predator was not in fact the neighbors cat. Comments have been made that are not appropriate in polite conversation. Do I think he has aspects of his personality which give him the potential to be a good friend - absolutely, but those are not the aspects governing his life right now. Worse is the fact that I just cannot convince the girls that I know this kind of man - hell, I've slept with this kind of man before - the kind who lulls you into complacency because you think he has accepted you refusal of his bed and decided to just be your friend. There is always a climactic event - where he drugs you, or you are too drunk, or to comfortable or worse, start to believe he actually loves you - and bad things happen. It astounds me that people who have seen him get one girl pregnant and then sleep with another girl would believe his motives are pure - or that he is worried about his ego. He isn't, he is just trying another method - if he can't convince you by his prowess, he will seduce you with his charm. I have seen this trick - I have been a victim of this trick and unfortunately so have a couple of my girlfriends.
I am so troubled - partly because my daughter doesn't believe me - and partly because she is choosing to believe others who have not shown great judgment.
Why do we sell ourselves short? Why is is so unbelievable that some day a man will find us so intriguing that he will call - even if he has to work in the morning? And I wonder why we have to hit those brick walls over and over again. We need to start out the way we mean to end - to borrow Lora's phrase - if we start by doing all the work and all the calling - you will be the one pursuing and that sells a woman short.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Purgatory: Middle Ground
This post is not about that quaint spot in Colorado.
I am currently reading a little book called: The Amazing Secret of the Souls in Purgatory. It is an interview with woman who sees people who are in purgatory and who offers up sacrifices or delivers requests for them. Took me about 25 minutes to read the book - but now I have to keep going back and re-reading it because parts are popping into my thoughts.
After writing this opening, I realize that I any have lost you already, you don't believe in Purgatory, or you can't find it in the Bible, so it must not exist. Well, there isn't a passage in the scriptures that directly describes the trinity - but we believe. Purgatory is a part of Catholic teaching that includes traditional beliefs, things that are revealed through the ages. I linked this to a site that talks about the history and the doctrine.
Oddly enough if I were writing about Sylvia Platt or some other person who could channel the dead, it would have more credibility - and that is truly messed up. In my days thus far I have learned that just because all don't understand it - or it is new to me, doesn't mean that it isn't credible.
I wanted to write a little something about this book because I had an interesting conversation with my sister-in-law about a family member who belongs to a faith outside of Christianity. Living in the Bible Belt, I find myself frequently explaining that there is a moment when Catholics choose The Faith as adults - Confirmation - and that is akin to "accepting Christ as your lord and Savior". Note I said akin - not identical. Choosing to follow Christ and let him be the director of your life is a day to day - and often moment to moment decision. I have always thought it was a good idea to have the Alter-call moment where you realize Christ is real - but that moment doesn't last forever. We can call ourselves Christians, and still use free will to choose a behavior that is against the very beliefs we profess.
So why do we Catholics have Purgatory? Let's start with the basic premise that God loves us passionately and obsessively every last soul of His creation. Ever been chased by Him - or seen Him lead someone back to Him, you know what I mean, then. Read the story in Hosea if you have forgotten, God creates enough drama that the woman comes back to Him, and He speaks kindly to her and restores everything so that she will know He loves her. How do you reconcile a God who is obsessed by His Love for us, and yet is bound by the terms that no one gets to the Father except though the Son - and must by His very nature be both Merciful and Just? What happens to those who only heard about Christ in passing, or never heard of Him at all? What about the Dali Lama - or the Hindus or the Jews or the Native Americans who practice a spirituality that is not about Jesus - but has elements that certainly honor God? What about those of us stuck in a cynical world full of evil who have questions about God and His fairness and His existence? There has to be a fair solution for what happens to good souls who die - God loves them obsessively. He would have a "loophole" as it were so that He would not lose them to Satan ( we believe He sent His son to be crucified, would only make sense that He would bend the rules as far as possible to get us to Heaven). People inherently have a conscience which can discern good from evil, it is through this conscience that the soul can become blessed. Thus - Purgatory.
Interestingly enough the question is asked of Maria about how people arrive in Heaven, Purgatory or Hell. Her answer was wondrous and I wanted to share: God gives every soul at the hour of death the grace sufficient to forgive their sins - to believe in Him, even if they did not know about Him during their entire lives. If one asks for sincere forgiveness, it is given - paid by the Blood of the Lamb. People who go to Hell choose to go there - God offers them Mercy, begs them to accept the gift He has already paid for, and they refuse it as a conscious decision. (Pope John Paul II wrote an encyclical on Mercy that discusses this in detail).
Those who see God are faced with the knowledge of who and what they are - pride is out of the equation and we are faced with our own reality. Often times a person will choose Purgatory as a means of purification. You wouldn't go to a holiday celebration in your gardening clothes with your hair greasy neither would you want to appear in the presence of God without feeling clean and prepared. Purgatory gives you time for purification until you decide you are ready to go to Heaven.
Truth is, there is no way to be sure about what happens after we die - there is room for interpretation even in the scriptures. I wanted to share this because Purgatory brings me comfort - helps me to feel like even those I feel are lost - from drugs, from alcohol, from mental illness - from darkness - still have hope - still have the potential to be in Heaven with God one day.
I am currently reading a little book called: The Amazing Secret of the Souls in Purgatory. It is an interview with woman who sees people who are in purgatory and who offers up sacrifices or delivers requests for them. Took me about 25 minutes to read the book - but now I have to keep going back and re-reading it because parts are popping into my thoughts.
After writing this opening, I realize that I any have lost you already, you don't believe in Purgatory, or you can't find it in the Bible, so it must not exist. Well, there isn't a passage in the scriptures that directly describes the trinity - but we believe. Purgatory is a part of Catholic teaching that includes traditional beliefs, things that are revealed through the ages. I linked this to a site that talks about the history and the doctrine.
Oddly enough if I were writing about Sylvia Platt or some other person who could channel the dead, it would have more credibility - and that is truly messed up. In my days thus far I have learned that just because all don't understand it - or it is new to me, doesn't mean that it isn't credible.
I wanted to write a little something about this book because I had an interesting conversation with my sister-in-law about a family member who belongs to a faith outside of Christianity. Living in the Bible Belt, I find myself frequently explaining that there is a moment when Catholics choose The Faith as adults - Confirmation - and that is akin to "accepting Christ as your lord and Savior". Note I said akin - not identical. Choosing to follow Christ and let him be the director of your life is a day to day - and often moment to moment decision. I have always thought it was a good idea to have the Alter-call moment where you realize Christ is real - but that moment doesn't last forever. We can call ourselves Christians, and still use free will to choose a behavior that is against the very beliefs we profess.
So why do we Catholics have Purgatory? Let's start with the basic premise that God loves us passionately and obsessively every last soul of His creation. Ever been chased by Him - or seen Him lead someone back to Him, you know what I mean, then. Read the story in Hosea if you have forgotten, God creates enough drama that the woman comes back to Him, and He speaks kindly to her and restores everything so that she will know He loves her. How do you reconcile a God who is obsessed by His Love for us, and yet is bound by the terms that no one gets to the Father except though the Son - and must by His very nature be both Merciful and Just? What happens to those who only heard about Christ in passing, or never heard of Him at all? What about the Dali Lama - or the Hindus or the Jews or the Native Americans who practice a spirituality that is not about Jesus - but has elements that certainly honor God? What about those of us stuck in a cynical world full of evil who have questions about God and His fairness and His existence? There has to be a fair solution for what happens to good souls who die - God loves them obsessively. He would have a "loophole" as it were so that He would not lose them to Satan ( we believe He sent His son to be crucified, would only make sense that He would bend the rules as far as possible to get us to Heaven). People inherently have a conscience which can discern good from evil, it is through this conscience that the soul can become blessed. Thus - Purgatory.
Interestingly enough the question is asked of Maria about how people arrive in Heaven, Purgatory or Hell. Her answer was wondrous and I wanted to share: God gives every soul at the hour of death the grace sufficient to forgive their sins - to believe in Him, even if they did not know about Him during their entire lives. If one asks for sincere forgiveness, it is given - paid by the Blood of the Lamb. People who go to Hell choose to go there - God offers them Mercy, begs them to accept the gift He has already paid for, and they refuse it as a conscious decision. (Pope John Paul II wrote an encyclical on Mercy that discusses this in detail).
Those who see God are faced with the knowledge of who and what they are - pride is out of the equation and we are faced with our own reality. Often times a person will choose Purgatory as a means of purification. You wouldn't go to a holiday celebration in your gardening clothes with your hair greasy neither would you want to appear in the presence of God without feeling clean and prepared. Purgatory gives you time for purification until you decide you are ready to go to Heaven.
Truth is, there is no way to be sure about what happens after we die - there is room for interpretation even in the scriptures. I wanted to share this because Purgatory brings me comfort - helps me to feel like even those I feel are lost - from drugs, from alcohol, from mental illness - from darkness - still have hope - still have the potential to be in Heaven with God one day.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Divine Intervention on I-65
This weekend, my daughter drove back to Indiana for senior prom. The trip up went well, and as the overprotective mother I had her call me every time she stopped with the exit number and the time.
The prom went fine - she hung out with old friends then went out for early morning breakfast - no raucous parties, just a fun time hanging out with her friends.
Then came the drive home on Sunday. She slept in , left some time around 11 and called me when she was leaving. About 45 minutes into the drive, she was coming through Indianapolis in I-65. She had just passed Methodist hospital, driving in the left lane when the front driver side tire gave way. The car pulled to the left, and since there was another car right nest to her in the middle lane, she went with the swerve and hit the concrete dividers. The car continued to fishtail, threatening to spin out of control, though now the speed had decreased. The rear hit the concrete as well, sending her skidding across three lanes of traffic and into the concrete on the passenger side. The car finally came to a stop at the end of the curve.
She never hit another car - she escaped without any injuries - other than some sore muscles this morning. This section of road has very heavy traffic - even on a Sunday morning. The chances of making it across three lanes of traffic, fishtailing and out of control without hitting another car - well, they are very slim. It had to be nothing short of divine intervention - maybe her guardian Angel was driving - because the potential to be slammed by another vehicle coming out of a nearly blind curve is just astronomical. When I went to Mass last night I took a minute and thanked God for sparing my daughter - because I know full well that she shouldn't have survived that.
My car is mashed - but it is fixable. She arrived in one piece this morning on a Greyhound bus, early enough that she won't miss school today. I remember vividly talking to one of my friends about my belief in God - in His provision, in His Mercy - and my answer rings true agian this morning - how can I NOT believe in Him, when He so clearly believes in me.
The prom went fine - she hung out with old friends then went out for early morning breakfast - no raucous parties, just a fun time hanging out with her friends.
Then came the drive home on Sunday. She slept in , left some time around 11 and called me when she was leaving. About 45 minutes into the drive, she was coming through Indianapolis in I-65. She had just passed Methodist hospital, driving in the left lane when the front driver side tire gave way. The car pulled to the left, and since there was another car right nest to her in the middle lane, she went with the swerve and hit the concrete dividers. The car continued to fishtail, threatening to spin out of control, though now the speed had decreased. The rear hit the concrete as well, sending her skidding across three lanes of traffic and into the concrete on the passenger side. The car finally came to a stop at the end of the curve.
She never hit another car - she escaped without any injuries - other than some sore muscles this morning. This section of road has very heavy traffic - even on a Sunday morning. The chances of making it across three lanes of traffic, fishtailing and out of control without hitting another car - well, they are very slim. It had to be nothing short of divine intervention - maybe her guardian Angel was driving - because the potential to be slammed by another vehicle coming out of a nearly blind curve is just astronomical. When I went to Mass last night I took a minute and thanked God for sparing my daughter - because I know full well that she shouldn't have survived that.
My car is mashed - but it is fixable. She arrived in one piece this morning on a Greyhound bus, early enough that she won't miss school today. I remember vividly talking to one of my friends about my belief in God - in His provision, in His Mercy - and my answer rings true agian this morning - how can I NOT believe in Him, when He so clearly believes in me.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Conspiracy Theory
Today I received a letter back from the US Governemtn statign that they could not verify that I was born in the United States. Since I am adopted, I could have been born anywhere- but my Social Security card says I am an entitled citizen. weird
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Thrill a Minute
Yesterday was another banner-blockbuster - hard to top - day.
First thing, I woke up next to my new husband who isn't frightened off by morning breath...remarkable.
Then, I got to work and discovered that now Diet Coke comes in a Splenda form - it tastes a lot like regular Coke - and is my new favorite - even over Diet Dr. Pepper.
I had my six month review and it went well, I love my job anyway - but the big bonus, I got a "market"raise for employee retention - about $3.00 an hour. Sweet!
Lastly, at lunchtime, I recieved a call from my mom. The latest CAT scan adn PET scan results show that my Dad's cancer is going into remission. This means he may be able to shorten the schedule of chemo, the doc already dropped the Allopurinol which protects the kidneys. Most importantly, it shows what we already knew -good medicine includes pharmaceuticals, prayer, and good attitude.
See, it'll be tough to beat that one!
First thing, I woke up next to my new husband who isn't frightened off by morning breath...remarkable.
Then, I got to work and discovered that now Diet Coke comes in a Splenda form - it tastes a lot like regular Coke - and is my new favorite - even over Diet Dr. Pepper.
I had my six month review and it went well, I love my job anyway - but the big bonus, I got a "market"raise for employee retention - about $3.00 an hour. Sweet!
Lastly, at lunchtime, I recieved a call from my mom. The latest CAT scan adn PET scan results show that my Dad's cancer is going into remission. This means he may be able to shorten the schedule of chemo, the doc already dropped the Allopurinol which protects the kidneys. Most importantly, it shows what we already knew -good medicine includes pharmaceuticals, prayer, and good attitude.
See, it'll be tough to beat that one!
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
The Wedding
The weather Channel has been predicting rain on Saturday for over a week now. I have embraced this little change of plans, and tried to figure out how to amend our plans for an outdoor party. Friday my friend from Albuquerque and her husband flew in to be at the wedding. It was fun - but when you see old friends, there is just never enough time to chat about all the stuff you want to chat about.
Saturday morning came and I was up by 6 and it wasn't raining. You just never know what might happen, so I thought I would act as though the rain would pass us until I actually saw the rain. I put the pans of potatoes and pork loin into the oven, set out the candles in the garden - I had a list of things going through my head, owing partly to the disconcerting realization that people from Justin's work had not yet RSVP'd, so I didn't know how many people were coming. This made me nervous, marrying Justin didn't. So I did what I always do - tried to follow my routine. I went to Wal-Mart, then stopped at McDonalds for eggs and sausage and a Diet Coke ( I'm addicted too, AC!). The sky opened up and the thick gray cloud let out water like there was a fire. The roads and my yard were soaked.
After coming home I put out some cinnamon rolls and juice for the kids - then started getting the drink table ready. I called and talked to my mom for almost an hour and the rain just poured down.
Promptly at 8:45, the family arrived. I escaped the kitchen, gave specific instructions ( which were ignored, but whatever) and went off to try to transform myself from tie dye and ponytail to blushing bride. I started getting ready and my daughter followed me in. Her self-designated job was to make sure I didn't make any huge faux-pas in the makeup department - like using green eyeliner (which I had actually considered instead of the bronze). Shirsten arrived with video camera but was gracious enough NOT to take pictures of me in a girdle and partial make-up.
Meantime, Justin transported out friends from his house over to our house, then made another dash back to get the cake. He had to come into the room to get his clothes for the wedding and even gruffly persuaded the girls to let him through, eyes closed - to kiss me hello.
A few minutes before the wedding, I asked Jerra about the location of the service and also to get the bouquet that someone had asked if they could put together for me. The service was going to be in the family room and there had been a misunderstanding - so there was no bouquet. My mom had talked to my uncle who had just happened to bring a big rose topiary and a dozen white roses - which saved the day. We announced that we were ready - and were told we could come down in two minutes. We stood there, in our bedroom, just breathing each other in , waiting for our turn.
Then came the two of us strolling down our hallway, arm in arm - me in the ivory dress and him in full kilt and prince Charlie jacket. It felt as natural as breathing. Reality set in as we walked into the room - bursting with people - and the preacher standing in the open doorway. TR, our brother-in-law was on filming duty - he was on the porch outside the door.
The preacher said he would be casual and if the thunder or the rain got too loud, he would pause. The rain pounded, thunder crashed and a train went by about a block away, but he never even slowed down.
He began with a little bit about the sanctity of marriage, then went to our vows.
"Do you Jason, take Stacey to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward as long as you both shall live?"
Justin replied: I do, and Jason does too.
The room erupted into laughter - we just couldn't help it. There was shushing, but it was too late. He apologized, and as the service went on, he called Justin "Jason" twice more.
Then it was my turn and he must have had some reservations about my status as a divorcee because he had me repeat two different versions of my vows - just to make sure they would stick!!
Then he prayed over the exchange of rings, and we finally got to put the rings on for good. Felt incredibly good. Let no man put asunder what God has joined together...
By the power vested in him, he pronounced us man and wife.
Then it was time to kiss the bride and for a moment, when I could feel Justin's breath, I forgot about all the other people in the room- and there were just the two of us.
Later Justin said that he just kept repeating in his head "no tongue, no tongue" - yep, he's mine.
There was no introduction of the Mr and Mrs, so we just kind of said -okay - we're done and started milling around.
One friend asked: Hey I thought you were Catholic, not Mormon -
I said I was
She replied well you married Justin and Jason and I thought only MOrmons could have two husbands.
I replied I'm just lucky I guess.
Saturday morning came and I was up by 6 and it wasn't raining. You just never know what might happen, so I thought I would act as though the rain would pass us until I actually saw the rain. I put the pans of potatoes and pork loin into the oven, set out the candles in the garden - I had a list of things going through my head, owing partly to the disconcerting realization that people from Justin's work had not yet RSVP'd, so I didn't know how many people were coming. This made me nervous, marrying Justin didn't. So I did what I always do - tried to follow my routine. I went to Wal-Mart, then stopped at McDonalds for eggs and sausage and a Diet Coke ( I'm addicted too, AC!). The sky opened up and the thick gray cloud let out water like there was a fire. The roads and my yard were soaked.
After coming home I put out some cinnamon rolls and juice for the kids - then started getting the drink table ready. I called and talked to my mom for almost an hour and the rain just poured down.
Promptly at 8:45, the family arrived. I escaped the kitchen, gave specific instructions ( which were ignored, but whatever) and went off to try to transform myself from tie dye and ponytail to blushing bride. I started getting ready and my daughter followed me in. Her self-designated job was to make sure I didn't make any huge faux-pas in the makeup department - like using green eyeliner (which I had actually considered instead of the bronze). Shirsten arrived with video camera but was gracious enough NOT to take pictures of me in a girdle and partial make-up.
Meantime, Justin transported out friends from his house over to our house, then made another dash back to get the cake. He had to come into the room to get his clothes for the wedding and even gruffly persuaded the girls to let him through, eyes closed - to kiss me hello.
A few minutes before the wedding, I asked Jerra about the location of the service and also to get the bouquet that someone had asked if they could put together for me. The service was going to be in the family room and there had been a misunderstanding - so there was no bouquet. My mom had talked to my uncle who had just happened to bring a big rose topiary and a dozen white roses - which saved the day. We announced that we were ready - and were told we could come down in two minutes. We stood there, in our bedroom, just breathing each other in , waiting for our turn.
Then came the two of us strolling down our hallway, arm in arm - me in the ivory dress and him in full kilt and prince Charlie jacket. It felt as natural as breathing. Reality set in as we walked into the room - bursting with people - and the preacher standing in the open doorway. TR, our brother-in-law was on filming duty - he was on the porch outside the door.
The preacher said he would be casual and if the thunder or the rain got too loud, he would pause. The rain pounded, thunder crashed and a train went by about a block away, but he never even slowed down.
He began with a little bit about the sanctity of marriage, then went to our vows.
"Do you Jason, take Stacey to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward as long as you both shall live?"
Justin replied: I do, and Jason does too.
The room erupted into laughter - we just couldn't help it. There was shushing, but it was too late. He apologized, and as the service went on, he called Justin "Jason" twice more.
Then it was my turn and he must have had some reservations about my status as a divorcee because he had me repeat two different versions of my vows - just to make sure they would stick!!
Then he prayed over the exchange of rings, and we finally got to put the rings on for good. Felt incredibly good. Let no man put asunder what God has joined together...
By the power vested in him, he pronounced us man and wife.
Then it was time to kiss the bride and for a moment, when I could feel Justin's breath, I forgot about all the other people in the room- and there were just the two of us.
Later Justin said that he just kept repeating in his head "no tongue, no tongue" - yep, he's mine.
There was no introduction of the Mr and Mrs, so we just kind of said -okay - we're done and started milling around.
One friend asked: Hey I thought you were Catholic, not Mormon -
I said I was
She replied well you married Justin and Jason and I thought only MOrmons could have two husbands.
I replied I'm just lucky I guess.
Wedding Part Two: The reception
After the service we were able to visit with family and friends. There was a lot of conversation and laughter about how odd our vows were - and how apparently the preacher wanted to make sure we meant it since we said them twice. We laughed about the rain and thunder- took about a zillion family pictures and then when there was a break in the action, we went to change.
Let me just say, this was the best plan of the whole day. We were both excited and tired and stressed from the drama of people who are WAY more high-strung than either of us are. We pre-arranged with my sister-in-law to clear the basement ( you can hear everything upstairs) so that we could "change". We went into what was now our bedroom, threw off our wedding attire, consummated our marriage, and grabbed a shower. Sorry, no more intimate details except to say that this was unbelievably valuable in terms of stress release - as well as giving us an hour to remember why we went through all the drama of the last three weeks and what all this fuss was about. And we're married, so we're allowed.
At some point during our absence, the rain stopped, the musicians showed up, and snacks were served. We emerged feeling much better about live in general and had about 20 minutes to circulate among our friends before the rest of the group started showing up.
My girlfriends from work were first - God Bless them. They had to listen to me giggle and gush all last week, but there they were promptly at 12:30, saying congrats. Then other folks started to file in, none of the neighbors from here, but a couple from Justin's neighborhood. Some people brought gifts, others just brought love - and that was great too. The house saw a lot of laughter and camaraderie - I would consider it properly house-warmed.
We ordered cake from the local bakery, it was SO INCREDIBLY GOOD with about half an inch of real butter frosting and yellow pudding cake that nearly drips. Rather than a traditional wedding cake we opted for a sheet cake with Pepe' le Pew and Penelope ( you know the Warner Brother's skunk and cat duo) - lying on their tummies gazing into each other's eyes. Perfect for us.
We had our friend, Duncan, play in the basement since outside was still too wet. Nothing better than a Scotsman and his wife in your basement singing drinking songs - with kids and adults bouncing and laughing with the lyrics, guitar strumming, drum pounding. It was great - worth every penny. He dedicated the Wild Rover to Justin "...And it's no nay never, .... No nay never no more .... And he'll play the Wild Rover, no never no more...". What a surreal experience to have musicians in the basement right by the Playstation - but it was great!
At 3:30, when we had agreed the party was to end, we packed our bags, gathered the family and
took off for the honeymoon.
I am still debating about blogging about that- the honeymoon - some things are precious and private. Suffice it to say that married life, though leaving me a little tired, has agreed with me.
Let me just say, this was the best plan of the whole day. We were both excited and tired and stressed from the drama of people who are WAY more high-strung than either of us are. We pre-arranged with my sister-in-law to clear the basement ( you can hear everything upstairs) so that we could "change". We went into what was now our bedroom, threw off our wedding attire, consummated our marriage, and grabbed a shower. Sorry, no more intimate details except to say that this was unbelievably valuable in terms of stress release - as well as giving us an hour to remember why we went through all the drama of the last three weeks and what all this fuss was about. And we're married, so we're allowed.
At some point during our absence, the rain stopped, the musicians showed up, and snacks were served. We emerged feeling much better about live in general and had about 20 minutes to circulate among our friends before the rest of the group started showing up.
My girlfriends from work were first - God Bless them. They had to listen to me giggle and gush all last week, but there they were promptly at 12:30, saying congrats. Then other folks started to file in, none of the neighbors from here, but a couple from Justin's neighborhood. Some people brought gifts, others just brought love - and that was great too. The house saw a lot of laughter and camaraderie - I would consider it properly house-warmed.
We ordered cake from the local bakery, it was SO INCREDIBLY GOOD with about half an inch of real butter frosting and yellow pudding cake that nearly drips. Rather than a traditional wedding cake we opted for a sheet cake with Pepe' le Pew and Penelope ( you know the Warner Brother's skunk and cat duo) - lying on their tummies gazing into each other's eyes. Perfect for us.
We had our friend, Duncan, play in the basement since outside was still too wet. Nothing better than a Scotsman and his wife in your basement singing drinking songs - with kids and adults bouncing and laughing with the lyrics, guitar strumming, drum pounding. It was great - worth every penny. He dedicated the Wild Rover to Justin "...And it's no nay never, .... No nay never no more .... And he'll play the Wild Rover, no never no more...". What a surreal experience to have musicians in the basement right by the Playstation - but it was great!
At 3:30, when we had agreed the party was to end, we packed our bags, gathered the family and
took off for the honeymoon.
I am still debating about blogging about that- the honeymoon - some things are precious and private. Suffice it to say that married life, though leaving me a little tired, has agreed with me.
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