Story Corner - The Big Day

Jessica has been throwing phrases around like "obligation" and "have-to" and "owe me" in her attempts to gently persuade me to contribute to the blog. In an effort to entreat I will hit some highlights from our big day.

I vividly remember getting a call the (Friday) night before the big day as I was out with some friends. Jessica derives great satisfaction from calling the outing my "bachelor party" because of the years of discomfort her terminology generated for me. No adult on earth equates the events of that evening with a bachelor party. Perhaps there are some kindergartners who might, but even there we would be hard pressed to find many. So in the middle of the "festivities" I get a call from Jessica. She is in tears. She is hysterical. She is going on and on about something. I can make out "wedding license" being thrown generously. Finally, I am able to deduce two things from her ravings.

1.) We have no wedding license.

2.) It is all my fault.

I don't know if it was her overwhelming reaction or my friends jeers in the background, but the whole thing struck me as kind of funny. So after feigning heartfelt concern, I hung up and proceeded to have a good laugh about it with my buddies.

This being my 1st marriage, I was unaware that it was the man's responsibility to acquire the wedding license. Much like the customary "talk with the father-in-law, " I was oblivious to this tradition of western matrimony. I also didn't quite grasp the full import of the little slip of paper. Apparently ... and you will probably be as shocked as I was when you hear this ... you cannot get married without one! Even the LDS Temple won't perform the ceremony without this license (except in Las Vegas ... even the Temple is a little looser in Vegas).

So we went to bed that night not sure whether or not there would be the much anticipated wedding in the morning. As legend now has it, my mother-in-law locked herself in her closet tearfully pleading in prayer that we would somehow be able to resolve this. Meanwhile calls were made all over to find out if we could still get married and fill out the paperwork later (nope!). So My father-in-law pulled some strings and got a local judge to open a courthouse on a Saturday morning dragging in some poor clerk to do us a big favor.

In the end we got the license and lots of exercise as we frantically dressed, shaved and prepped for the ceremony while racing from San Joaquin valley to the East Bay . This made for a memorable morning and made me feel kind of like I had crossed a finish line out of breath as we exchanged vows in the nick of time. Little did I know that the hectic pace of that day was but a primer for the many that would follow it. Yet for some reason the details of that day stick, while all the others seem to fade.