The Writer and Her Handsome Prince. Once upon a time – 50 years ago this coming Friday – I was too harried to be nervous. The next many hours would be my wedding gift to almost-husband Jonathan. He had no idea what I had planned.
A hundred details were yet to be addressed. As always I had made many lists. Thank heaven for that because soon our little house on Burnup Road would be overrun by my womenfriends impatient to launch the day’s events.
This was a homemade wedding from the start. Everything my previous marriage that crashed and burned had never been. No silver embossed matchbooks here. Only the golden-hearted efforts of our community of friends.
The cake baked by someone’s roommate. Turkeys and hams from the ovens of our mothers in law. Hors d’oeuvres and salads concocted in our own kitchen by my sister social workers as the sink filled up with veggie peelings.
They forced me out of there eventually. Off with a self-appointed gaggle of girlfriends to be gowned in hippie homespun still waiting for a hem. My long hair was straight as usual until they advanced on me with curling irons. The brocade slippers on my feet were supposed to keep me from stumbling down the aisle.
I honestly cannot remember getting to the church. Jonathan and I walked to the altar together. Nobody owned me so I did not need to be given away. Neither did he.
I had designed the ceremony to reflect the depth of our love. Still, what happened that late afternoon astonished even me because of the passion of the players. A profound reading from a beloved literary friend. A soulful song composed and performed by my brother. An inspired blessing by a former priest in flowing robes. Jonathan reveled in everything as I had hoped he would.
There were surprises also that I had not planned. Gorgeous baskets for my bridesmaids created by my young son from wildflowers and roses. A vintage Cadillac at the church door to whisk us away with wild applause as a sendoff. A bathtub filled with ice and champagne bottles by our work place friends for our Black River house reception.
All day long enough anecdotes were born to feed a lifetime of memories. Moments that caught in our hearts. Moments to split your seams with laughter. Moments bathed by tears. Moments as sunlit as the bouquet of yellow roses I never tossed to anyone because I could not bear to let it go.
I have written thousands plus thousands of words since then. But this is the first time I have written about that day when we were so very brand new. When I was yet to write anything much at all and Jonathan was yet to become my great encourager of every page that followed.
Meanwhile 50 years of real-life stories have been lived. Adventure. Struggle. Triumph. Disappointment. Joy. Astonishment. Regret. Celebration. Tragedy too because our long time together has been reality not fairy tales after all. Yet to this day we blessedly remain – The Writer and Her Handsome Prince.
Alice Orr – https://www.aliceorrbooks.com.
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Alice has published 16 novels, 3 novellas and a memoir so far. She wrote her nonfiction book No More Rejections: 50 Secrets to Writing a Manuscript that Sells as a gift to the writers’ community she loves. Her novel – A Wrong Way Home – Riverton Road Romantic Suspense Series Book 1 – is another free gift for you HERE.
Praise for A Wrong Way Home: “The story twists and turns masterfully into danger and romance.” “I highly recommend this page-turner which is romance and suspense at its best.” “The writing is exquisite.”
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Love your story Alice. You and Johnathan have lived a great life together. I admire you botj
Thank you Daria. We have been blessed with a long time to build our story. As a storyteller, I see it as a long series of struggles and triumphs. That is what makes a story worth writing, worth living. Right? Not a fairy tale but a real-life tale. I should write about that part someday. Possibly I already have in fits and starts here and there among my books. I need to think on that more. Love and Blessings. Alice
Love, love, love this story of happily ever after–even if every day has not been fairy tale glitter and perfection. Who knew that Dan and I have you and Jonathan beat??? I never would have guessed. Joy to both of you on this momentous occasion. May your ever after be long and filled with days that bring lots and lots of smiles and laughter from the new memories you’re making now.
Oh dear Alfie. You and Dan have been in the victory column forever as I see it. The quirk of your smile, the affectionate edge to your wit, the wisdom of your very good heart. All of those have made good love happen for you two, and his side is up there in the plus column too. But prime among all of that is simply sticking with it in my opinion. Sticking Sticking Sticking. Whatever comes down or up the happenstance scale you just stay there until its time to come out on the other side. Long-term relationships amaze me. The variety of experience we have lived. The stories that twist and turn and are always compelling, especially to those of us who live them. I wish with all my heart that you were here in my living room right now so we could chat about this into the night. My bet is there would be lots of laughter too. Love and Blessings to you both. Alice
This Dec will be our 49th, first marriage for both of us. I know of someone who introduces her husband of 40+years as “My ex-boyfriend.” lol
Like you, I was not “given away”, although my father walked me down the aisle. The phrase “who gives this bride/woman” was not in the instructions we got before marriage, but we had planned that Daddy would walk me to the end of the aisle, and I would go the rest of the way on my own. So when the justice of the peace asked those words (giving my father an expectant look), I said, “I do,” loud enough for everyone to hear.
Still say “I love you” to each other every single day. 🙂
Dear Kayelle. I can hear you speaking out and speaking up. “I do give myself to you because I own myself and now we will be together creating whatever it is we will own together.” Symbols are very important in life, at least I believe they are. And the symbol in making that declaration of selfness right there at the beginning, for everyone and the universe to hear and see, is a powerful powerful powerful symbol. For us as women even more than for everything and everyone else. My heart tells me that relationships are strengthened by individual strength. And saying I love you every single day. That is crucial too. Many more great years and fond wishes to you both. Love and Blessings. Alice
Alice,
I just had to comment because Bob and I celebrate 50 years next year. Our wedding was similar to yours except we had our reception at a small local hotel.
I made my wedding dress, the veil was a simple lace mantilla that my matron of honor brought back from her trip to Spain. The bridesmaids wore plaid taffeta skirts that were handmade, and they carried dried flower arrangements of wheat, mums, and golden velvet ribbon. I carried red mums and didn’t give my bouquet away either.
We wrote our own vows. My matron-of honor’s hubby sang. Bob’s fraternity brother played the organ. I marched down the aisle to Peter, Paul, and Mary’s “There is Love”, and my father and mother walked behind me. 🙂
Oh, those hippie days.
Hugs.
Dearest Paula. Those hippie days indeed. Wonderful to remember. Even more wonderful to have lived. We made life from scratch back then, or at least we believed we did. We took the scraps of what the past had left us and rearranged them in a way that felt more free to us, more creative, more of ourselves than of tradition, though tradition was surely there, the most meaningful facets of it. I am glad that you have such a lovely memory of that day, yours and Bob’s. I am grateful to have such a memory day myself to cherish. Congratulations in advance on your 50th coming up. It really is special no matter how you may spend it. Ours was simple and intimate, with the two of us on the date day, and with family the next. But mostly we celebrate in our own hearts and hold all of it, the years and all they have given us, close close close very close. Love and Blessings. Alice