My baby was home this past weekend to attend the wedding of a high school friend and that got me to thinking about weddings and the months in which they occur.
Of course, a couple can be married any month, that goes without saying. While June and July have typically been the most preferred months for weddings – something I’ve never really understood – I wonder why a couple pick the month they do to tie the knot, jump the broom, get hitched, walk down the aisle…you get the idea. Hey, can’t help it…I’m a writer.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand.
I got married the day after Christmas. I know. There’s nothing you can say I haven’t already been witness to from all my friends and family. But…it was the only time he could come home from his job in Wisconsin to do it, so. I loved getting married on the 26th of December. Everyone – everyone! – was still in such a good and joyous mood from the holiday and more importantly, our families were still all together and didn’t have to travel again to celebrate the day. It was a cold, crisp day, about 27 degrees in NYC, a scant amount of fresh snow covered the ground and streets so everything looked pretty and my colors were – surprise, surprise – red and green. Beautiful. It really was.
Now, I lovedlovedloved my winter wedding, but autumn is my favorite time of year. There is something so rich and spectacular, so grand and breathtaking about the kaleidoscope of the changing colors. The harvest is bountiful and the food amazing. An autumn wedding would be a delight to plan just from the color spectrum choices for me.
A Spring wedding brings with it the beauty of rebirth and the threat of rain. I always feel anxious when I attend a wedding during the spring months because I don’t want rain to mar such a memorable day. Isn’t there an old saw that goes, “Happy is the bride the sun shines upon?” Now I personally happen to love rain. A rainy day is a gift to me for a number of reasons, but a beautiful bride bedecked in pure white with….rain spots on the back of her dress, is not a happy thought!
In my second novel THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME, Moira Cleary and Quentin Stapleton marry on an august day in her parent’s garden. Instead of it being an uncomfortable hot and humid day, like any august day in Connecticut could be and often is, I flubbed the weather and made it a glorious, sunny, just-warm-enough afternoon for them to say their nuptials. Here’s a little sumthin’ sumthin’ from the day:
As the guests all stood and turned to watch the procession, Seamus leaned down to his daughter and said, “I married your mother in this garden twenty-nine years ago. It was the best day of my life.”
Moira squeezed the arm she held, touched.
“Until the day you two were born,” he added. “And now today. Baby, if you know a tenth the love and joy with Quentin your mother and I have had, then I’ll be a happy man the rest of my life.”
“I love you, Daddy. So much.”
He turned to her, his eyes shimmering in the afternoon glow of the sun.
So… you know what’s coming! What month did you marry in? Why that month? Was your wedding all you hoped and dreamed? Come on and share…we’re all friends here. Let’s discuss….
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