It’s been two months since I married a Viking and I never miss a chance to bring it up. Luckily for me, marriage is a topic that most people love to discuss. They think it’s an accomplishment, this formal union of mine. According to them, my relationship is now official, cemented by ink in a way that several years of dating and two international relocations could not. To them, all that came before was temporary, casual and this is not. This is marriage. And they are here for it.
Except that everyone knows my wedding day was still pretty casual, as is the case when one says their vows in a parking lot. I find it odd, actually, that most people are willing to overlook that point… and the one about ordering takeout instead having a reception or not getting a shiny diamond ring. I guess it’s a matter of our circumstances—that being coronavirus, mostly. People are willing to make all kinds of allowances that they wouldn’t ordinarily. I take no pleasure in a global pandemic, but I do appreciate that it granted me the cover to celebrate a civil union with three weeks’ notice practically in the North Pole and not have to listen to anyone gripe about how it’s not the way they would have done it.
Any other time, I think people would have snubbed the whole thing—the cheap dress, the online reception, the takeout. But COVID had a curious way of changing all that. With everything as heavy as it is, people are willing to skip all the usual snarking and in-fighting that accompanies a lot of weddings. They didn’t try to force an agenda about band vs. DJ or buffet vs. entrée. Not one person tried to convince me that ivory is not white! They just let me have my day and found the good in the situation. They focused on the positive—the part about being in love and starting a new life and all the happy memories yet to come. You know, the part that everyone says matters the most, but then does their best to prove otherwise with million-dollar receptions and matching bridesmaids dresses and a deluxe mashed potato bar.
For my part, I was happy to give people a little distraction from all the madness. A virtual wedding was something for people to look forward to, an event to ground the week with—and so be it. That’s what my annual Zoom subscription is for. Well, that and conference calls.
The wedding, by the way, was better than a conference call. People came with songs and speeches and toasts. They told stories and shared pictures. My brother set off a confetti cannon indoors during nap time. Valtteri’s friend, a local DJ, played a set that no one listened to, but everyone saw, courtesy of a muted video feed.
People sometimes ask me now if I’m going to have a “real” wedding later. I know what they mean. They’re talking about a party with drinks and dancing and fancy clothes. There’s a part of me that wants that or at least thinks I might, so I won’t rule it out. But I wouldn’t consider that my “real” wedding. Traditional, maybe, but not real. I already had one of those. Coronavirus took away the venue, but that’s about it. I got to have all the good parts. And I get to keep the memories just the same.
In many ways, it feels too soon to be writing about COVID in this context. We are still very much in the middle of a pandemic and posts about finding the positive in the situation probably won’t age well. It will take years to recover, decades to know the full impact of this event—what it has done to children who are out of school and people out of work and all us who have lived through this devastation. It is clear that this event will change us, but we don’t know yet just how much or how deeply.
When we write about COVID later, I think we will mostly focus on the negative. The losses and the lost. Our wrongs and how we were wronged. How the situation was a matter of life and death and the constant, chronic fear that the latter could have come for any one of us.
To cope, I think a lot of us have done what I have done in framing my wedding as a blessing. With so much gray, we feel the need to boil life down into buckets of good and bad, embracing the positive without caveats. We carry a sense of gratefulness and thanks when we have good days and sometimes, when that seems too much, we try to just appreciate the good moments. We try to be happy, however briefly, to do little things like spend time with friends or leave the house or put on pants. We are finding ways to stay safe but also still enjoy life, as best we can in the midst of all this heaviness.
At least that’s what I’m doing. With my Viking husband.
Sigh…I always wanted a deluxe mashed potato bar. My daughter claims that any wedding reception she hosts will have a cold cereal bar. Classy. Love it.
As someone who had a zoom wedding last month and wouldn’t change a damn thing, I heartily concur with everything you wrote!
You did good. I’ve been married 52 years (wow) in about a week, and our amazing wedding was held in the rectory of the church with a best man, a matron of honor, and about six people our family’s decided had to come.
I really didn’t care, I’d have been fine with a driveby, with the priest shouting the vows at us as we hurtled by. it really didnt matter. Married is married.
Argue over the little stuff, ignore the big stuff, and you’ll be fine. I think you already are.
Hug him for me.
I’ve been to amazing weddings and to duds. What I’ve learned is that as long as the wedding reflects the couple, it’s a success. What you guys did? Totally felt like the you I’ve come to know through this blog, and therefore made me scream with delight. You did you. What more could anyone want?