2006 November « Getting Married

Surprise – A Traditional Ceremony

November 29, 2006 at 9:56 am (The Ceremony)

When I told people I was getting married, the expectation was some kind of earthy, barefoot ceremony with a wreath of flowers on my head. In fact, I never expected I would go the church route - I am usually the one who thumbs her nose at tradition.

Originally I wanted a small destination wedding on a beach or in Vegas, with parents, siblings, and an attendant apiece. I figured we put the whole thing on a web-cam and that way, everyone could come but they wouldn’t have to show up. Then we could have a big party when we got back from the Honeymoon.

I wanted to wear a red wedding dress as it is a good luck color for marriage and a good color on me. My mother rolled her eyes and told me it would offend people.

I kind of liked the notion of getting married at dawn with the sunrise, having brunch with mimosas for the reception, and getting to the honeymoon site in the daylight. Fred nixed the idea “everyone will be too hung over to show up!” Him too, probably

Yet somewhere in the whole planning the word “vows” came up and I realized I had been thinking in terms of a party, not a marriage. Somehow, the Church became the most important part – not the reception site or the food or the favors.

For someone who is caviler about most things, I am shocked to find how seriously I am taking this.

I never thought I would want to go through Pre-Cana classes. I never thought I would accept that the way to “start off right” would be to get married in the Catholic Church. I never thought I would travel to other cities to seek council with a priest. And I certainly never thought I would be a traditionalist.

But I realize that for me, being different is being traditional.

And in this case, traditional not only feels good, it feels right.

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Wedding Announcement Addendum

November 28, 2006 at 12:15 am (Date, Engagement, The Ceremony)

Apparently the previous wedding announcement confused some of my friends (they were already planning a road trip while muttering “nice of her to invite us to a wedding we can’t even go to”), so to clarify:

We are NOT getting married in Troy, New York

Baby, you will be lucky if I even marry you after what you recently pulled. How dare you mismatch my socks!

Fred is not wearing a crown of thorns

I’ll wear whatever I want.

I am not kissing Fred’s feet . . . ever

You will be kissing whatever I tell you to, woman. Now, get to work on my dinner.

We are having a Maronite Service (God willing) and it is called a Crowning rather than a wedding. Maronites are part of the Eastern Catholic Church and have some unique traditions. We spent the better part of Sunday talking with the priest we hope to marry us, Father Salim, and were able to attend the service at St. Anthony’s.

It felt good to be back among the incense and Syriac chanting.

Mark your calendars

November 27, 2006 at 9:02 am (The Ceremony, Wedding planning)

Wow. Picking a date for your wedding is harder than opening a jar of pickles with wet hands. But we finally have a date — Friday, May 25 at 6:30 p.m. That’s our church (above), Saint Louis Bertrand Church in Louisville, Ky.

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Wedding Announcement

November 24, 2006 at 8:00 pm (Engagement, Family)

My uncle, the family comedian and #1 impersonator for Lebanese family members, wrote a wedding announcement for us and read it at the Thanksgiving table . . . in character:

The Diocese of the Maronite Rite announces the marriage of Jaclyn Engelsher to an American by the name of Fred Minnick, As uhlarod (God willing), at high noon July 4th in the year if our Lord 2007, Saint Ann Marronite Church, Troy, New York (the church I grew up in).

The ceremony will begin with high mass with chor-bishop Josef Kaddo and Reverend Elie Ghassan Kairouz officiating.

After mass, the traditional wedding procedures will commence:

1. Fred will be crowned with thorns.

2. The couple and attendees will be blessed with incense

3. Exchange of vows

a. Jaclyn will promise to obey

b. Fred promises faithfulness and loyalty beneath a curved sword

4. Rings are then blessed with holy water and exchanged

5. The bride is then allowed to remove her veil and kiss her husband’s feet.

A haifli (party) will immediately follow at St. Ann’s Church. Kibbie, Hushiwee, Tabouli, Juhdra, Grape Leaves, and Humus make up the mercy meal. The couple will feed each other figs and bethlawei for dessert.

Entertainment will be provided by the Tommy Hakim Band. The couple’s first dance will be the Dubkai.

The honeymoon will be spent at the Auriesville Shrine for a week of prayer, abstinence, and fasting.

Thank you very much.

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Saying no to other women

November 22, 2006 at 3:35 pm (Already divorced, Engagement, Family)

Let’s just say, I wasn’t a church boy in college. In fact, I was a bad boy.

A very bad boy.

And now that I’m getting married, I’m having flashbacks. Not about war, but my fraternity parties.

In these daydreams are scantily clothed college girls reaching for me and softly whispering, “Fred, you don’t want to get married. Come join the party?” Some of these girls are blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauties that deserve to be Cover Girls. Others are just average bimbos hogging the keg and forcing me to talk to them. (I ignore the bimbos.)

It’s as if I’m constantly second-guessing my decision to get married. Am I ready? Is Jaclyn the right girl? What if Denise Richards or Jeri Ryan calls the day of the wedding?

An Army captain once told me that I’d have a hard time settling down because – how do I tastefully say this? – I’ve been around the block a few times. “But once you do get married, you won’t ever look back,” he said. “Trust me. I was just like you.”

At the time, I was hungover from the night before and I dismissed his words – I rarely gave officers the time of day. But now, five years later, I completely understand what he was trying to say: I’ve gotten “it” out of my system and will be ready to settle down. My problem, though, are the many memories that keep playing out in my mind.

Luckily for me, I can share these dirty times with my fiancé, who led a crazy life before me, too. (This post won’t be the first time Jaclyn hears of my daydreams.) I tell her everything. And I mean everything.

When we’re in public and I see a hot girl, whose features deserve an extra stare or two, I point toward the woman and make lewd references to Jaclyn. She always listens.

But – in retaliation it seems – she usually finds a cute boy.

“Ummm. Give me five minutes with that checker,” she once said about a checker at Target. “He had really nice forearms.”

Of course, after she’s finished eye humping another man, I grab her and whine. “You don’t really think that the other man is hotter than me, do you?” I ask in my sad puppy dog voice. “Because I thought I was number one. …” Then, I find another firm-breasted female. “Baby, did you see the rack on her?”

She typically laughs and softly moans, “Oh, nice forearms.”

It’s a never-ending process that’s completely harmless. We are constantly giving each other heck. Which is why I dismiss those silly dreams.

Reality with Jaclyn is much better.

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Friends who can’t make it

November 21, 2006 at 9:53 pm (Wedding planning)

As many of you know, I am an Iraq veteran, of which I am very proud. A friend still stuck in Baghdad learned of my engagement. He wrote:

“I wish you two the best of luck throughout the rest of your lives. Good times and hard times. Always remember why you wanted to marry her! Tell her every day how much you love her ’cause you know as well as I, you may not be able to tomorrow. Best of wishes on your wedding day.”

Unfortunately, he won’t be able to attend the wedding. He’ll still be in Iraq. But there will be enough soldiers and vets there. And we’ll drink plenty of booze for the whole damn Army.

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My Brother

November 21, 2006 at 9:37 am (Family, Food)

My brother and niece are flying in today and I am feeling a little sentimental.

My brother is the best.

He has always had a gift for making people feel comfortable and welcome. He is a listener, a comforter, a protector and a comedian who knows just when to point out when you need making fun of. Being around him makes you feel like you have taken a big exhale, and that kind of stress relief is much needed at holiday time. And at wedding time.

After reading my post about wanting something different in a wedding, he said, “You know Jac, I have two words for you: Las Vegas.”

Don’t think that wasn’t a serious consideration (more on this in an upcoming post).

My brother has been in the hospitality industry for 20 years and I know he is going to come up with some great suggestions. He just graduated from Le Cordon Bleu so I hope he is going to come up with some great desserts too.

Not that I am going to get to see much of him. Fred already has an itinerary of restaurants he wants to take him to and doubtless, a million little ins and outs of the industry he wants to discuss. Great. A chef and a food journalist. I might have to bring a book to the dinner table.

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Our families will meet

November 20, 2006 at 1:15 pm (Engagement, Family, Food)

When I was a child, mom called me “Freddie” and dad made conversation with everybody, including the 7-Eleven checker who couldn’t speak English. Those things, along with many others, made me embarrassed of my parents.

I’m not unique in this area.

Jaclyn’s mom, a very sweet woman by the way, has told me horror stories about Jaclyn’s youth.

I tortured my parents, too. Growing up, my friends and I were responsible for several random forest fires, broken noses and toilet paper hanging in trees. I still hold the record for the most swats in Jones Middle School. My eight grade year, the principle spanked me 15 times. Back then, teachers didn’t need permission to spank a kid. But at one point, Mr. Stevens called mom.

“Ma’am, we have your son in the office again,” he said. “He’s bringing rap music to school and playing it very loudly. What do you want me to do?”

“Well, bust him,” mom said. “Spank him as much as you want.”

Although we lived completely different lives, Jaclyn and I were troublemakers in our own ways. And now the ones who raised us will meet for the first time. My parents are making the long trek from Oklahoma to Kentucky to meet Jaclyn’s family.

I always thought I’d be nervous about my folks meeting my future wife’s. But I’m not.

I’m actually quite stoked. I can’t wait to sit at the dinner table and talk about the wedding, how we met and about our childhoods. To say the least, I’m not embarrassed of my parents anymore. I’m glad they are a part of my life.

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The Dress

November 19, 2006 at 9:45 pm (The Ceremony, Wedding Dress, Wedding planning)

Fred told me when he went ring shopping in the mall, every ring the sleezy salesmen showed him was followed by a dramatic pause and a “that ring is so beautiful” or “that’s gorgeous, just gorgeous.”

I find an interesting parallel in shopping for wedding dresses.

“You look just breathtaking, and that line is so flattering,” says the commissioned saleslady as I look a reflection of myself in corseted dress that cut my 5-foot frame in multiple sections.

“Oh your waist just disappears in that. It’s just stunning,” I’m told as I don a mermaid style gown that accentuates my ample hips.

Honestly, I expect that from warehouse-style places, and to be fair, I did have a great time working with one of the sales ladies and found a few dresses that I liked. I expect a little lower quality and for alterations to be additional in the big stores. But I was surprised that one of the specialty shops operated in the same hustle and bustle way and told you you were on your own for alterations.

That’s a big deal when you are short.

Surprisingly, I found my dress at the first place I went.

When I walked into the shop, the lady I had the appointment with turned out to be someone I worked with nearly 10 years ago. Every dress she picked out looked great on me – she knows style. She listened to what I wanted and in the end I chose one that had me, my mother, my maid of honor, and even our sales lady getting misty eyed.

When I looked at the dress, I heard my altar-walk music.

I never though I would feel that way about a piece of clothing, but I suppose I am more girlie than I thought. The great thing is, they do three fittings and the alterations are included. At my height and proportions, that is serious service!

Fred didn’t believe that he was not allowed to go dress shopping with me. He had to be brought up to speed on tradition. However, he started doing a room-by-room search of my mother’s house demanding to see the dress. Fred didn’t believe it will take 4 months to get the dress in. My mom told him that when he sees me in it, he is going to cry. He says he is going to puke. Either way, I can’t wait to see his reaction.

I just don’t want to clean up the result.

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