Our wedding rehearsal was 41 years ago tonight, in a small, now defunct, church in the country, 15 miles away from the nearest town, and 2 miles from my farm home. It was minus 40 degrees outside, and inside we were praying and holding our breaths that the Air Canada strike would be called off so that Tom's family could arrive in time for the ceremony the following day. Out of town guests had been farmed out in various homes, and, along with the wedding attendants arrived at the church for the rehearsal. Of course we were all a little giddy & anxious and the minister needed to take some leadership with the rambunctious group. He raised his voice, changed his tone and stated "this is no laughing matter here".
Marriage is no laughing matter although we have done our fair share. My memory of the actual wedding day is rather vague, and if truth be told, I knew little of marriage and possibly even less of my groom. Our marriage counselling consisted of a prayer for us and a big pat on the back for our life together. We had cobbled together a ceremony via air mail letters, each question requiring a wait of a least 30 days for a response. My Mom sewed up a simple but beautiful white velvet gown, and together with the church ladies made a meal that resembled all other wedding meals; potatoe salad, jello salad, cold cuts and sliced cheddar cheese. The wedding cake was a splendid work of art; a three tiered wonder that survived the elements and was cut up and shared amongst the guests.
Here we are, 41 years later; and I must pay tribute to a man who promised to love me till death do us part. In sickness or in health he said, in rich times or poor. So help him God. He now wakes up to a woman that is barely recognisable from the one to whom he spoke his vows. That alone is no laughing matter, or, is it?
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