My Defining Days of the Decade: #2

A year later than originally planned, it’s time — long past time, really — to publish the final two items on my Brendan’s Defining Days of the Decade list. (Of the last decade, that is. Y’know, the one that ended on December 31, 2009. And no, I don’t believe the decade “technically” ends tomorrow. That logic might fly for centuries and millennia, but not for decades. More to the point, if I thought the decade ran from 2001-2010, then 7/2/00 and 11/7/00 wouldn’t be on this list, obviously.)

Anyway… Today, #2. Tomorrow, #1. But first, to review:

#12: May 15, 2003: Becky and I Graduate From College
#11: November 7, 2000: The Election of a Lifetime
#10: August 14, 2003: The Great Northeast Blackout
#9: September 15, 2008: The Economy Implodes — And I Get A Job
#8: July 3, 2004: Becky and I Get Engaged
#7: July 2, 2000: The Day I Fell In Love
#6: August 26, 2005: “Get The Hell Out”
#5: April 30, 2007: Holy Crap, I’m Gonna Be A Daddy
#4: October 15, 2005: A Football Game for the Ages
#3: September 11, 2001: “You Guys, You All Have To Wake Up!”

Number Two…

(tied) March 7, 2005 and December 30, 2005: Our Wedding Day(s)

All right. So I’m cheating a bit here, by cramming two dates into one item on the list, and calling them “tied.” But it’s worth it, because in order to explain the “tie,” I have to tell a story that’s never been told before here on the blog — and it’s a good one.

It’s the story, in short, of how Becky and I got married for football tickets.

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Well, okay, that’s not really right. I mean, we got married because we love each other, because we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, yada yada yada. I’ve talked about that shmoopy stuff a bunch already, in previous Defining Day write-ups, and I’ll do so again a bit later in this post. But to understand how there could be a “tie” for “Our Wedding Day(s)” — i.e., to explain the timing — we definitely have to get into the football-ticket-related side of the equation.

As you already know, Becky and I got engaged on July 3, 2004. Less than two months later, I headed to South Bend, Indiana, to start law school. Then in early January 2005, almost exactly six months to the day after our engagement, Becky left Arizona and moved to Indiana to be with me — but not before, over winter break in AZ, we picked the date and site for our wedding: December 30, 2005, at Gold Canyon Golf Resort.

(Coincidentally, we picked the date and site exactly a year beforehand, on 12/30/04. The place where we’d hold our ceremony was flooded that day, due to a freak rainstorm on the 29th, but we knew Arizona climate well enough to know that wasn’t likely to happen again that time of year, and we had no qualms as we reserved the date & place for our big day, one year hence: 12/30/05.)

Our timing created a bit of a problem, however. Becky would be living in South Bend with me throughout 2005, and she was my fiancée, and she certainly wanted to be able to attend Notre Dame football games with me that fall (my 2L year). After all, if you’re living in South Bend but not going to the ND games, you’re basically missing out on the only redeeming quality of living in South Bend. 🙂 Plus, USC was coming to town in October — specifically, October 15, 2005; you might have heard of it — the only time we’d get to see the Irish host the Trojans during my three years in law school.

But because Becky wouldn’t be my wife until late December, after football season was over, I wouldn’t be able to get her season tickets in the student section, since only a spouse can get guest season tickets to the football student section at Notre Dame — not a fiancée or any other family member, only a spouse. That meant I’d have to scramble to secure Becky a ticket to each individual game (which would be most difficult for the most important game, USC), in whatever section or row happened to be available, and then hope the ushers wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t in her proper seat (which they usually don’t, but occasionally do). Or else I could try to sneak her in altogether, using someone else’s ticket booklet — a sometimes do-able, but always risky, proposition.

Neither of these were particularly appealing options, especially when it would be so simple to just buy her season tickets in a seat right next to mine — if only we were married. Which we would be, very soon, but a few months too late for it to matter.

So, at some point in January or February of 2005, it occurred to us that there was a solution to this problem. We could get legally married a bit early, before football season. That would allow us to buy season tickets together, legitimately. And then we could still hold our big public wedding ceremony in December — “declaring our love before our families and God,” as I’ve often said in explaining this to friends and family — despite being, “technically,” already married.

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A few other considerations also weighed in favor of an early legal marriage. For instance, there was some thought of Becky getting on my student health insurance (though we ultimately didn’t do that). I also liked the idea of removing the infinitesimal-but-not-nonexistent possibility that I could somehow get in trouble for violating Notre Dame’s code of conduct by, er, “living in sin” with Becky. (Really — no joke. Premarital sex is against the rules, even in private housing, even for grad/law students. And, although this virtually never happens, you can technically be expelled for it.)

But truthfully, the ultimate decision was almost entirely based on the football ticket thing. If it weren’t for the desire to get Becky season tickets to Notre Dame football, we definitely wouldn’t have gotten married “early.” We never would have even thought of the idea.

Now, admittedly, obtaining football tickets might sound flimsy and insubstantial as a rationale for making decisions related to something as significant as a marriage (though perhaps not to die-hard college football fans!). But the thing is, we already knew we were going to get married; the only question was the timing and the formalities. Keep in mind, we’d been dating since 2000, and were deeply and madly in love, with lots of long experience living together, going through ups and downs together, weathering the storms of life together. So it’s not like this was some snap engagement, and we needed a bunch of time to be sure it was going to work out. We were both 100% sure we were going to get married. We were completely comfortable that neither of us was going to get “cold feet” before December. Thus, there was no real downside to moving things up by a few months (or ten).

Anyway, we discussed the idea between ourselves, and decided we both liked it, and wanted to do it. But we didn’t want to proceed if it was going to upset either of our families. So we talked it over with both sets of parents. Everyone was OK with it. Thus, the decision was made: during spring break in Arizona, we’d find ourselves a judge and get hitched.

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So, on Monday, March 7, 2005, we took the plunge, legally speaking. Wearing a pair of my t-shirts — me in my circa-1998 Red Sox shirt, Becky in my lucky Gonzaga shirt — and with a $50 cashier’s check from the local supermarket, Basha’s, in hand to cover the relevant fees, we drove down to the East Mesa Justice Court and, shortly before its closing time at 5:00 PM, walked into the chambers of Judge R. Wayne Johnson. And got married.

Naturally, this being me, the moment was videotaped. The quality, though, was a far cry from that of the professional videographer who we would hire to document our big wedding ceremony almost 10 months later. The “videography” of our legal wedding consisted of me haphazardly placing my point-and-shoot Canon PowerShot digital camera, with its 320×240 video recording function activated, precariously on the judge’s desk, leaning it on some random object to point it in roughly the right direction, and hoping for the best. The resulting video is a bit crooked, and certainly low quality — but it captures the moment when we became husband and wife. And it’s never been seen before publicly. Here it is:

Afterward, we celebrated our newly formalized wedding bliss by… driving to a nearby Sonic and picking up some fast food for dinner. Now, if that’s not a classy “reception,” I don’t know what is. 🙂 And then we headed to north Phoenix to meet for the first time with Jim Hushek, the “married Catholic Priest” who would conduct our December 30 ceremony.

That’s right: as it just so happened, on the very same day that we got legally married, indeed just a few hours later, we met the guy who would declare us husband and wife — again — later that year. We were totally open with Father Jim about what had just occurred, and about the nature of our December 30 ceremony (ceremonial, spiritually meaningful, but not legally binding). He was totally fine with it. We liked him, and promptly chose him to officiate the ceremony — one of several examples of major wedding-planning decisions that we made during spring break, in those initial hours and days after getting married. How many people can say that? 🙂

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So… that was wedding day number one, and the first of the two “tied” dates on the list. I think it’s fairly self-evident why it belongs on my “Defining Days” list — though I’ll nevertheless have some more to say on that topic a bit later. For now, suffice to say, it’s the day I got married to the love of my life and the future mother of my children. It’s the day Becky and I went from college sweethearts with plans to get hitched, to a legally recognized married couple.

(Oh, and it’s the day she became eligible for those football tickets — which she got, of course.)

At the time, however — during that almost ten-month period in between our legal wedding and our ceremonial wedding — we tended to talk about the events of March 7 more as a technicality or formality, and referred to December 30 as our “real” wedding date. We couldn’t wait. Our friends and family were gathering together from distant points all across the country, coming to Arizona to see us get hitched and celebrate with us. Some of them knew the March 7 story; others heard it through the grapevine. It was something of an open secret. Among those who knew, nobody seemed to much care. What mattered was the ceremony, celebration and big ol’ party that we’d be throwing in December.

When I look back now on December 30, 2005 and the days surrounding it, it’s that gathering of all those wonderful people which helped make it so special. Our core group of revelers — i.e., our large wedding party, plus some other close friends who were also staying at the resort — was simply an amazing and wonderful mix of people, family and friends from different stages of our lives (Becky’s high school, my high school, college, law school, etc.), seamlessly integrating into a cohesive group despite, in many cases, having never met one another before. They made our wedding so memorable, and oh so fun. Becky’s mom repeatedly and frequently tells us that it was the second-best wedding she’s ever been to — after her own — and that the attendees from the community where she and Becky’s dad live (basically just down the street from Gold Canyon) still talk about how much fun it was, five years later.

But perhaps more to the point, nearly everyone who we desperately wanted to be there, was there. Our friends and family came from far and wide to, as I put it in my impromptu post-reception speech to the video camera and the assembled partygoers,”tell us that we’re cool because we love each other.” As I said: “We really appreciate all the love and affection and congratulations… We love each other, and we really appreciate you guys coming out to honor us.” It was corny, and not all that well-articulated, and I may have been a little tipsy when I said it — but I meant every word!

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Anyway I won’t walk you through the whole story of our wedding day and the events surrounding it, as — unlike the heretofore untold story of the March 7 wedding — it was heavily blogged at the same, and heavily documented since. But since I posted the video of our legally binding vows, I should probably post the video of our ceremonial ones as well:

And then, of course, there was our… unique… first dance, to the song “In Spite of Ourselves” by John Prine and Iris Dement. We first heard this tune playing on some random country radio station in Kansas while driving across the country during college, and instantly fell in love with it. If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a flavor of the lyrics:

She thinks all my jokes are corny
Convict movies make her horny
She likes ketchup on her scrambled eggs
Swears like a sailor when shaves her legs
She takes a lickin’
And keeps on tickin’
Never gonna let her go.

He’s got more balls than a big brass monkey
He’s a wacked-out werido and a lovebug junkie
Sly as a fox, crazy as a loon
Payday comes and he’s a-howlin’ at the moon
He’s my baby
I don’t mean maybe
Never gonna let him go.

Here we are, dancing to it:

And finally, some more “highlights” from our awesome reception. A few specific things to look for: at the very beginning, we’re introduced (by my dad) to the strains of Trojan Marching Band music, and we shout “BEAT THE LONGHORNS!” as we walk in. This was five days before the 2006 Rose Bowl, remember. They were heady times, people. 🙂 At 1:30 of the video clip, the SHA girls (Becky’s high-school friends) serenade us. At the 4:15 mark, don’t miss Uncle Rick’s hilarious message, followed by Uncle Steve “playing” not the spoons, not the forks, but a single fork (LOL). Then at 5:10 come my parents with their song for us — a Irish folk tune, naturally (and one that they also sang at their own wedding in 1977).

It was, to say the least, a day and night to remember. And I daresay we looked a little spiffier than we had in my old Boston and Gonzaga t-shirts. 🙂 Here’s a Flickr photoset of the festivities, including before and after the wedding. A few photo highlights:

Bride & Groom.

Becky and her bridesmaids.

Becky and my groomsmen.

Brotherly & sisterly love.

Everybody! The whole, ridiculously large wedding party, being goofy.

One Ring to Rule…..er, wedding rings. 🙂

Family.

The SHA Girl “family”!

Bride & Groom at Sunset.

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Of course, all of this invites one obvious question: which wedding date do we consider our “anniversary”? The answer, perhaps not surprisingly, is a bit complicated.

When we decided to get legally married “early,” we very consciously pondered this very question, and decided that we still intended December 30 to be our “anniversary” going forward. It was, after all, the big ceremonial wedding with family and friends, the one where we’d “declare our love before our families and God.” And indeed, this decision to treat December 30 as our anniversary was, in my mind at least, a crucial element in maintaining the mental notion (some might say fiction) that it, 12/30/05, was our “real” wedding day, whereas 3/7/05 was just our “technical” or “legal” wedding day.

We stuck with that decision for the first couple years of our marriage. But then, we had a kid. And, as it happened, she was born on December 31, 2007 — two years and a day after our ceremonial wedding. Our second anniversary, in ’07, was just about completely overshadowed by the aftermath of Christmas and the impending excitement of the baby’s arrival. We realized this was going to be a continuing problem going forward, as our anniversary would always be hopelessly sandwiched in between Christmas and Loyette’s birthday/New Year’s.

So we decided to move our anniversary.

Starting in 2008, instead of celebrating on December 30, we decided to celebrate on March 7. So we went from celebrating our second anniversary on 12/30/07 to celebrating our third anniversary on 3/7/08. Our marriage “aged” a whole year in just over two months! 🙂

Our fifth anniversary, therefore, was this past March 7. And today? It’s the five years to the day since an awesome, utterly unforgettable day in our lives. But it’s not our fifth anniversary. That already happened; we’re coming up on six years now.

Nowadays, Becky sometimes refers to December 30, 2005 as our “reception” or our “party.” When she does that, I invariably point out that we didn’t just have a reception or a party — we had a ceremony, too. Declaring our love before our families and God. I still think that means something, as does she. December 30, 2005 was our wedding day, just like March 7, 2005 was our wedding day.

But in the end, when we look back on December 30, 2005, I suppose she’s right that it’s the “party” we remember above all. It really was a great party, and a wonderful celebration of our love — the love that we had formalized in the eyes of the law almost ten months earlier.

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I promised some “shmoopy stuff,” and I’ll conclude with it, because otherwise I risk missing the point a bit here. For as wonderful as the December 30 “party” was, and as amusing as the March 7 “football tickets” story is, neither the party nor the story are, of course, enough by themselves to lift these dates all the way up to the #2 spot among my “defining days” — ahead of 9/11, of the USC-ND game, of the day I found out we were going to be parents, of Katrina, of all the other momentous days on this list.

The party and the story can’t do that. Only Becky can do that. Or more precisely, Becky and me. Us.

My love for Becky, which was formalized in a marriage contract on 3/7/05 and declared publicly as such on 12/30/05, is quite simply the central fact of my life, not just in the decade 2000-2009, but in this new decade and, I can say confidently, in every decade to come — for as long as we both shall live, as they say. Our love, our marriage, is the bedrock foundation of my life, on which everything else builds.

I love Becky, truly, madly, deeply, moreso than I could ever properly express. Moreover, that love is, in a sense, baked into every aspect of our lives. It’s bound up in my feelings about the amazing house and neighborhood and city that we live in together; in my joy at the memories we’ve made, and continue to make, together; and in my inexpressibly profound love for the children we’ve had together.

Of course, love is not just a noun, it’s also a verb, as Becky (channeling Dr. Phil, I believe) has often said. That is to say, love isn’t merely something that you feel, it’s also something that you do, a series of actions and choices that express love, and express themselves as love. That can be a hard charge to fulfill, at times, amid the everyday stress of adult life, with jobs and bills and kids, with a house to keep clean and two adorable but high-maintenance little girls to manage. But we always remember, even if we’re cranky or irritated or downright pissed about something, how much we love each other. And I think we always, in the end, find a way to show it — the verb as well as the noun.

And that, I think, I hope, is the essence of healthy marriage, one that can and will last into all the decades of our lives to come. Love, not just felt but also expressed, necessarily implies all those other things you need to make a marriage work: trust, friendship, communication, respect. I don’t think either of us ever doubts that we have those things.

We are, of course, not perfect. No one is. And yet, in a sense, I like to think that we’re sort of perfect in our imperfection. Which, really, is the whole point of our song. Like John Prine and Iris Dement say:

In spite of ourselves, we’ll end up a-sittin’ on a rainbow
Against all odds, honey, we’re the big door prize
We’re gonna spite our noses right off of our faces
There won’t be nothin’ but big old hearts dancin’ in our eyes.

Above all, March 7, 2005 and December 30, 2005 are defining days of my decade because they are symbolic of that — of us — of Becky’s and my love for each other, and everything that goes with it.

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So there you have it. Our wedding days, each highly significant and memorable in their own way, each “defining,” and tied for #2 on the list.

Tomorrow: we finally finish! Item #1! Stay tuned!