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N is for Nuptial<\/p>\n
When my late husband and I got engaged, Dave announced he wanted to get married in a Catholic Church. \u00a0\u00a0Since Dave and I never went to church and agreed that religion seemed like an excuse for people to boss other people around, I was surprised.\u00a0 Even more shocking was that he insisted on a full nuptial mass, the Roman Catholic equivalent of the director\u2019s cut.\u00a0 I shuddered at the thought of my friends traveling from far and near to sit, stand and kneel for over two hours.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about my gay friends?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll invite them!\u201d Dave said cheerily.\u00a0 I conjectured that Dave\u2019s insistence was based on pleasing our mothers.\u00a0\u00a0 Both of our mothers were devout Catholics, attended Catholic schools and considered being nuns in their younger years.<\/p>\n
Since marriage is about compromise, I relented, but on the condition that I could take control of the reception that would include a Cajun band, a fish fry and a carrot wedding cake.<\/p>\n
He agreed.<\/p>\n
Now, I am sure my Catholic readers are shaking their heads in dismay and you\u2019re right. I am a terrible Catholic. \u00a0I can\u2019t help it.\u00a0 For someone like me, who has the attention span of a tired toddler, I find church painfully boring and always have.\u00a0\u00a0 Listening to a monotone priest with a lisp rattle on about how I am going to burn in hell is pure torture. \u00a0If I were Pope, (which obviously I couldn’t be), I would require mandatory story telling classes, acting classes and diction classes for all my priests. \u00a0\u00a0I would have them work with playwrights to perfect their homilies and teach them how to smile and spice up the communion.\u00a0 I am sure attendance would increase.<\/p>\n
In order for Dave and I to qualify to be married in a Catholic Church, we had to attend\u00a0 \u201cPre-Cana\u201d classes.\u00a0 By the time Dave realized this, we were too late to register for classes in Manhattan and had no choice but to attend a weekend retreat upstate.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d rather gouge my eyes out,\u201d I told Dave.<\/p>\n
\u201cLike St Lucy,\u201d he mused.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not funny,\u201d I pouted<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019ll be fun.\u201d He said pulling me to his broad chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly if I get to pick our song, make the seating arrangements and choose our honeymoon<\/p>\n
\u201cDeal.\u201d\u00a0 He agreed.<\/p>\n
On a humid Friday in August 1996, Dave and I drove up to Croton-on-Hudson for our Pre Cana retreat. \u00a0We were singing loud to U2 with the windows down when Dave suddenly got serious.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cI really need you to be on your best behavior this weekend.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI always am!\u201d I said unconvincingly.<\/p>\n
I am irreverent, inappropriate, and impudent and a lot of other \u201cI\u201d words.<\/p>\n
I can\u2019t help it.<\/p>\n
I was born that way.\u00a0 My mother loves to tell the story of how she dressed me up for Easter and took me to St Patrick\u2019s in Manhattan when I was three years old.\u00a0\u00a0 Somehow I had managed to crawl under all of the pews and make my way to the front where I stood directly under the pulpit, facing the congregation and imitated the priest. My mother only realized when she heard everyone laughing.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll try to be good,\u201d I said.\u00a0 \u201cBut seriously, since when did you get so churchy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not. I just\u2026\u201d he stopped pressing his lips together, his thick eyebrows furrowing.\u00a0 \u201cI feel really lucky and I just feel like God has something to do with it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell that\u2019s cool,\u201d I said.\u00a0 \u201cI think that too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI keep Psalm 23 in my firehouse locker because I just..It makes me feel like he\u2019s with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think I know it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.\u00a0 <\/b>He makes me lie down in green pastures, \u2028he leads me beside quiet waters, <\/b>he refreshes my soul.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do know that one. It\u2019s beautiful.\u00a0 It\u2019s like he is responsible for your happiness.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly.\u201d<\/p>\n
In the late afternoon, we pulled into a circular driveway where a large cinderblock building sat on a bucolic hillside.\u00a0\u00a0 The sun cast long shadows on the lawn where a few people mingled.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh God,\u201d I couldn\u2019t help say.<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly,\u201d Dave said, leaning in for a kiss.<\/p>\n
The lobby was large and pale yellow with an inordinate amount of bulletin boards and a statue of Mary in the corner.\u00a0 A giant desk dominated the entrance where a woman sat, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.<\/p>\n
\u201cWelcome! Welcome!\u201d she said.\u00a0 She smiled, revealing crooked teeth that stood in stark contrast to her smooth white skin and blue eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name\u2019s Jill and I\u2019m one half of your host couple,\u201d she said handing us red folders with crosses on them.\u00a0\u00a0 From a side room, a man entered.\u00a0 He was tan, with thick blonde curls that made him look like a 70\u2019s porn star.\u00a0 I erased the thought from my head and squeezed Dave\u2019s hand. \u201c\u2026And this is my husband Dan. My other half.\u201d\u00a0 Dan smiled and reached across to shake Dave\u2019s hand. His teeth were equally bad making me wonder if perhaps there was a lack of dentistry in town.\u00a0 I just as quickly felt guilty for thinking negative thoughts about a couple that seemed perfectly nice and volunteered to teach us how to be married.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet me show you where our dormitory is,\u201d Jill said gesturing for me to follow her to the back of the lobby.\u00a0 I turned back to see Dave being led a different way.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you guys have a long drive?\u201d she asked, her sandals echoing as they flapped in the cold stairwell.<\/p>\n
\u201cBrooklyn,\u201d I said as she opened a door to a long hallway that led to a large, square room lined with two rows of cots. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Minus the giant portrait of Cardinal O\u2019Connor on the wall, the room looked exactly like a room \u201cMadeleine\u201d would sleep in.\u00a0 \u201cIn two straight lines they broke their bread and brushed their teeth and went to bed.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cWell that\u2019s not too long of a drive.\u201d Jill said cheerily.\u00a0 \u201cThis\u2019ll be your cot.\u201d She said gesturing to a bed in the middle covered in an itchy woolen blanket. \u00a0Noticing my expression she continued.\u00a0 \u00a0\u201cI know it\u2019s hard to be separated from your fianc\u00e9 but I\u2019m sure you know the Catholic Church deems premarital sex as a sin.\u201d<\/p>\n
My thoughts were like pinballs of all the retorts I could make, of the sarcastic responses, the snide comments, but I simply said \u201cI did hear that once.\u201d<\/p>\n
After dinner, about eight couples sat in a room where an affable looking priest with a red face and easy smile introduced himself as Father John.\u00a0 He told us he would be leading the exercises over the weekend and that Jill and Dan were his assistants,\u00a0 \u201cThe \u201cexample couple\u201d he said smiling at the two dentally challenged blondes.\u00a0 \u201cWith a lot of love and a lot of talent,\u201d he continued as Jill took out a guitar and positioned it on her lap.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh no\u2026\u201d I whispered and Dave bit his lip to keep from smiling.<\/p>\n
Jill tilted her head and started singing.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus died for everyone<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Jesus didn\u2019t die because it was fun.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
Now I was the one biting my lip hard to keep from laughing.\u00a0 I have always struggled to stifle giggles in churches, schools, concerts, and funeral homes.\u00a0 It is a curse and as Jill sang her heart out, staring at me, I squirmed and used my technique of thinking of something sad so as not to laugh. \u00a0\u00a0Dave squeezed my hand hard and I saw his shoulders bouncing and was shocked that he too struggling to keep from laughing.<\/p>\n
\u201cThink of something sad,\u201d I whispered as I closed my eyes and imagined my sister was gone forever.<\/p>\n
That night, I couldn’t sleep.\u00a0 An overweight librarian from New Jersey was snoring loudly and the Buddhist from the Upper West Side in the corner kept rolling over, making her cot squeak.\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0The room was dark, but when my eyes finally adjusted I could feel Cardinal O\u2019Connor staring at me, judging me, feeling superior.<\/p>\n
The following morning the eight couples gathered on the lawn in front of the center.\u00a0 It was a hot day and we clustered in the shade of a sycamore fig tree whose finger like roots stretched across the lawn.\u00a0\u00a0 Father John led writing exercises, \u201cthe thing I love about my partner is\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was easy.\u00a0 Dave doodled next to each of his answers.<\/p>\n
a)\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her humor<\/p>\n
b)\u00a0\u00a0 Her beauty<\/p>\n
c)\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her smile<\/p>\n
d)\u00a0\u00a0 Everything.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf your partner found out they were pregnant you would\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
I wrote,\u00a0 \u201c\u2026Say DAVE! Congratulations! You are a special because you are the first man to have a baby!\u00a0 Yes!\u00a0 That\u2019s a whole new twist on the Immaculate Conception and I for one, am very excited! \u00a0I don\u2019t have to fear childbirth, I can decide what we watch on TV, make a better salary and even become president! Who Hoooo! <\/i><\/p>\n
As Dave read my entry he chuckled, his dimples flaring. Father John passed \u00a0 \u201cLaughter is an important part of marriage,\u201d he said smiling at us.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe do a lot of that,\u201d Dave assured him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat Saint is that?\u201d Father John asked pointing to the silver necklace Dave wore.<\/p>\n
\u201cSt Florian,\u201d Dave fingered the medallion with his thick fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cPatron Saint of Firefighters,\u201d the priest said. \u00a0\u201cGod bless you,\u201d he said continuing on.<\/p>\n
I slept well that night.\u00a0 The woman from New Jersey had gone home.\u00a0 It turned out she didn\u2019t know her fianc\u00e9 as well as she had thought and they decided they needed more time before committing to marriage.\u00a0 In the dormitory, as she packed her bag, her eyes red from crying she said, \u201cThere were only two things on the list of things he loved about me.\u201d<\/p>\n
The following morning after breakfast, we reconvened in the meeting room where Father John played a video about Family Planning.<\/p>\n
\u201cNFP\u201d the voice over said, as a couple walked hand and hand down an empty beach. \u00a0\u00a0\u201cNow that you have made your marriage vows, you can engage in Natural Family Planning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh God,\u201d I whispered rolling my eyes. Dave stared ahead as a woman appeared squinting at an empty calendar. \u201cA woman\u2019s menstrual cycle is anywhere from 26 to 32 days long\u201d the voice over said.\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0The woman on the television circled a day on the calendar. \u201cCircle the day of your period as day 1, then mark the same day of the week, one week later, as Day 8 and circle it. Count forward to Day 19 and circle it. \u00a0For these twelve days (days 8 through 19), abstain from all sexual intercourse, if you wish to avoid conception.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c12 days of the month?\u201d Dave whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cNFP. It stands for no freakin\u2019 pussy for two weeks of every month,\u201d I whispered back.<\/p>\n
\u201cThink sad things. Think sad things.\u201d Dave said trying not to laugh.<\/p>\n
On September 11th<\/sup>, 1993 on a crystal blue-sky day, Dave and I were married at St Peters church on Staten Island. My Jewish father walked me down the aisle and kissed me on the cheek as he gave me away.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re standing on my train,\u201d I whispered to my dad.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d he asked wondering why I wasn\u2019t moving.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re standing on my train,\u201d I whispered louder.<\/p>\n \u201cGet off her dress,\u201d my sister said from the altar.<\/p>\n The priest spoke eloquently reading Psalms Dave carefully chose including his favorite, 23.\u00a0 \u00a0My father recited a poem and my friend sang a Roberta Flack song while my sister played the flute.\u00a0 \u201cAnd I knew our joy would fill the earth and last till the end of time, my love\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n When Dave died exactly eight years later, there was a lot of talk of God. I was in churches every day for funerals and I thought often of our Pre-Cana weekend, how I learned that Dave\u2019s favorite bird was a hawk, that he wanted to visit every National Park in the country, that he wanted three kids, two years apart.<\/p>\n I held a Memorial for Dave on his birthday in the same church where we had our son baptized four years earlier. Father Bartley presided over the mass. He was a family friend and shared Dave\u2019s Birthday.\u00a0 The service was long, beautiful and profound. My dad read a poem, the same friend from our wedding sang \u00a0\u201cSomewhere over the Rainbow\u201d and Dave\u2019s mom read Psalm 23:<\/p>\n \u201c….Surely your goodness and love will follow me\u2028\u00a0all the days of my life,\u2028and I will dwell in the house of the Lord\u2028\u00a0forever.\u201d<\/i><\/i><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n <\/p>\n N is for Nuptial When my late husband and I got engaged, Dave announced he wanted to get married in a Catholic Church. \u00a0\u00a0Since Dave and I never went to church and agreed that religion seemed like an excuse for people to boss other people around, I was surprised.\u00a0 Even more shocking was that he […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-757","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"