Getting hitched

My youngest sister M told me this weekend at the third annual Crab Fest that she follows my blog and I have not written much lately.

’tis true. Evident by the post archive on the side and by my complete lack of presence here.

It’s been an odd few months, getting used to the idea of “having a wedding” which is not at all to be confused with “getting married” or “becoming a wife.”  The last two actions do not in the least bit bother me or threaten me. “Having a wedding” however makes me want to shut out the lights and run for the exits. “Having a wedding” means being the center of attention and having people look at me and watch me and critique me and wonder what in the world a girl like me is doing in an event like that.

At least that’s what my brain tells me will happen.

But yesterday, as we sisters and my mom sat under the shade of the white walnut tree, our fingers cut by the razor sharp edges of the broken crab shells as we dug out a few pounds from the remaining blue crabs, we talked about “having a wedding.” And I realized that I don’t have to be had by a wedding, but I can plan something that I like and that I’m comfortable with. Something that reflects the safety and comfort I feel with A, who says he wants to marry me because I’m the “perfect balance” between girly and not-too-girly. This is the guy who proposed to me in the woods, in the dark, after a hike up a flooded trail to the top of a snow covered hill to dig a diamond ring out of his geocache. Our second date was a geocache. One of my favorite days with him was chasing him around a mud bog on a 4-wheeler and then dozing on his shoulder by the fire.

I can have a wedding with that guy, the one who talked me down from a ledge last week after my car’s gasket leak got worse. He says a thousand things with his twinkling eyes, a thousand more things that say the opposite of his grumbling and curmudgeonly persona.

I settled on colors — ivory and burgundy. Tonight we hiked back up that trail to re-place the geocache which had been ransacked at some point since our engagement. We walked our dog, and held hands in the forest in the dark.