Mission: Accomplished. Sort of.

Spring had sprung and there were things to be done. Top of the list: my girlfriend’s daughter’s wedding. We were putting it together in short order, as the bride’s groom was military and schedules were almost impossible to navigate. The rabbit trail here is I’ve “done” lots of weddings, almost every task there is to do for a wedding, and have seen nearly everything you could possibly imagine. The flowers, hair, directing, decorating, making, buying – just about everything but the cooking and vow pronouncing. Oh, the stories I could tell. Some of my favorites include police officers, and old men. I’ll save those for another day. But, how my heart giggles with the memories.

As weddings go, looking back, my girlfriend’s daughter’s wedding was one of the sweetest, most simply elegant, beautiful weddings I’ve ever seen. Held at a local country club, it was an all-inclusive event, which helped tremendously. The ceremony was held outside by the lake and the reception indoors in an elegant dining room. The weather was perfectly beautiful and the bride and groom looked stunning; he in his uniform, she in her organza dripped gown.

There was work to be done, and loved ones to entertain and serve. A schedule to keep and all hands on deck. I didn’t want my girlfriend to fret over anything, and her sister-in-law and I did everything we could to keep the day running smoothly.  We pulled it off without a hitch, truly.  It was one of those weeks where you just put on your jet-pack roller skates, pull up your big girl panties, handle business, collapse later.  You see, within a matter of days I had signed divorce papers, buried a family member, and helped pull off a flawless wedding.  An emotional trifecta of sorts.  All I needed was for someone to have a baby, and the emotional merry-go-round would have made a complete navigation through my psyche.  I’m glad there was no baby; it would have catapulted me over the ledge.

Like many, I’m better when I’m busiest  – idle hands, and all….  Plus, it helps keep the emotions pushed down.  There’s no time to have a melt-down when there’s work to be done – and there was plenty.  I like it that way.  I’m sure I didn’t handle everything in the best way possible, as I was mentally spent, empty, and vacant, but my intentions were strong, and I worked hard.  Working hard is what I do best; it’s all I’ve got.  My apologies if I didn’t do it with my most convincing smile.

All that to say, that weekend changed my life.

Being the one who was responsible for keeping the timeline on the train tracks, it was all business.  Because of a series of conversations, it was deeply impressed upon me that my toughest job that day would quite possibly be to keep the bride’s dad, shall we say, subdued. I went into the rehearsal evening telling myself I could handle it all, be the boss of the situation, stay in control of it all, win.  Within a matter of moments, it was “game on, Sir.”  I’d met my match.

Ok, how about another rabbit trail here, want to? I’ve mentioned before how shy I was growing up, yet really didn’t have a problem “putting on a show.”  But that required me being part of a group  – not being the only one front and center.  As long as I had others with me, I was good.  Speed along to being an adult and I needed to learn some skills.  I suppose those skills really started in college when I took a speech class.  I was scared to death, but I learned some tactics I could carry with me through life; and I have.  Now, it doesn’t necessarily come easily, and I’m still scared to death, but I can step into a role, make my mind up to perform it out, and get the job done.  Which is what I did that fateful day.  Mission: Accomplished.  Sort of.

I needed to be in charge of the movement of the wedding and all the pieces, which meant all the people, which meant the bride’s dad.  I had never met most of these folks, including him, but had heard tell of them all, so I could deduce who was whom.  It didn’t take long to figure out that the man standing there surveying things was the one over whom I needed to gain the upper hand. Time to put on the director-in-charge-hat and take over.

He’s a tall man.  Even in my high heels, I looked and felt short standing in front of him.  I, with as much boldness as I could muster, walked up to him, put out my hand to shake his, and said, “Hi. I’m Sharon and I’ll be directing your daughter’s wedding.”  I then pointed in his face with my free hand, looked (up at) him square in the eye and said, “And, you’ll do everything I tell you to with no questions asked, and you’ll behave this weekend.  Got It?”  He squeezed my hand slightly, looked me up and down, and said, “We’ll see.”  This is when I said to myself, “game on, Sir.”  You see, I was no longer intimidated, shy, needing a shot of courage.  Now I was just ticked off.

Much to my delight and surprise, he did do everything I told him to, asked him to, needed him to. He was helpful, kind, informative, generous, and a flirt.  Wait.  What??? This man was unmerciful.  In all my life I’ve never been flirted with, hit on, chased, had someone stuck to my left hip, like this man on these two days.  On the one hand he made my job incredibly easy.  I always knew where to find him, knew I had someone who would help me with whatever came up, (it’s a wedding….lots of things come up), and he did whatever I told him to.  This job just got WAY easier!  Though several folks offered to “save me” from him and his flirtatious ways, (he was not not obvious), I declined because having him stuck to my left hip made it all so much easier.  I knew everything he was doing and saying, and where he was at all times. I can put up with a lot, if it makes my job easier.  Mission: Accomplished.  Sort of.

It was a beautiful day for a wedding – sunny, mild temperature, slight breeze.  I dutifully sent each attendant down the lawn to the guests seated in lovely white chairs facing the pergola at the lake.  It was now time for the bride to be escorted to her groom, and I wasn’t playing.

“You will walk your daughter not too fast not too slow, when you get to the back row of chairs you will pause, allow her guests to see how beautiful she is, then take her to her groom and give him her hand.  You will go to your seat, sit quietly, and be the last person to exit the ceremony.  Got it?”  I may have put my finger in his face again.

He did exactly as told.  I was a little shocked.

Then, at the reception, it was time for the toast.  I knew where he was – just had to look to my left. “You will get the attention of the room, make a toast to the Bride and Groom.  It will be short, sweet, all about them and not about you. You’ll tell them how proud you are of them and how much you and everybody loves them, and you’ll come right back here to me.”  And that was exactly what he did. And again, I was a little shocked.

Who is this man, and why is he behaving?

The day was winding down, and it was time to send off the happy couple.  A beautiful bubble-blowing send-off, then time to clean up and call it a day.  A few of us made light work of it all, said our good-byes, and headed to our cars.  We pulled it off, and it was beautiful.  But perhaps the most beautiful part of it all is that “he” was behaved, and when all was said and done, I literally wiped my hands of this job and him, and walked away.  Mission: Accomplished.  Sort of.

You see, I was finished, but he was not.

Then came the FaceBook friend request.  Delete.

Then came the voicemail at the salon.  A haircut request.  Dang it.

In all of my twenty-seven year career, I’ve never denied anyone an appointment. (some folks have only gotten one appointment, but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post)  I bemoaned to my co-workers how this man had worked my last nerve, and now he wasn’t stopping.  Silly me, thinking I was done with this fool. Now it was really game on.  I’ll let him come in for a haircut, mostly because I needed some legal advice.  I’ll cut your hair, you give me free legal.  Win/win. (Which, I’ve come to find, is one of his least favorite phrases.)  I wasn’t interested in him like that – my life was in flames – but didn’t mind talking with him and having a new friend.  He was delightful, funny, engaging, brilliant, and willing to help.  I suppose we both had motives.

But he didn’t stop.

He just kept on.

Weeks and weeks of pursuit.  Wearing me down, weakening me, winning.  Dang it.

I say all that, but the reality was, I really liked him, enjoyed being around him, was happy to see more of him. He pitched woo, as our friend so eloquently noted, and won me over.  I was crazy about him and wanted to learn more about him.  He graciously complied.  He was gentle with me through one of the most difficult transitions a life could have, made me laugh and let me cry, provided me a place to live, helped me make difficult decisions. (and, don’t go getting all sideways.  I didn’t move in with him, I rented one of his properties from him.) It was all overwhelming.

There is, of course, so much more to this story.  I may tell it all in the future, but not right now.  It’s complex and lots of folks play a part. Suffice, he won me over, I won him over, and we’ve been married almost three years now.  So, yeah, when I look back at that weekend, I shake my head at myself and him.  Mission: Accomplished.  Sort of.  😉