Me and Fabio got married this August in the thick of the swamp heat. We sealed the deal in Woodbine, GA by the power vested in Judge Sweat (no relation to Keith, sadly) at the small county courthouse just a stone’s throw from the Satilla River. We had three dear friends as witnesses: Debbie, Antonello and Ilaria.
I pitched my bouquet down the courthouse steps to lovely Debbie. Interesting, since it was her own Mama who did up that bouquet as well as Fabio’s boutonnière for the big day. The precise timing of the nuptials was inspired by the arrival of the Italian newlyweds Antonello and Ilaria, who were travelling the US East Coast on their own honeymoon. Rarely does Fabio receive guests in coastal Georgia, let alone friends from kindergarten. It was a sign.
We went to a thrift store the day before and allowed ourselves an unlimited budget for our wedding digs. That was an amusing shopping trip, and we selected a woodsy green and brown palette, ultimately appropriate for rural Camden county. I imagined myself a hip diner waitress and he a lumberjack in his Sunday best.
I myself was excited to speak my vows, and to see sweet Fabio get through his too. “Cherish” was a stumbling block, but I pointed out it was a very important part, and so he spiffed up his pronunciation on a second try.
Admittedly, it was a big decision, yet we tried to play it down since neither of our families were going to be there. Far-flung ourselves, with even just our nuclear families peppered over two hemispheres of the Earth, a simple wedding is improbable. So “it’s just paperwork” was our constant refrain, and we soothed both our Mamas that the family party that will eventually come will be the Real Wedding. Nonetheless, we were pleased at how our day was adorned with gestures from our new friends here, and we know our families are grateful that we had a cheering section in their absence. We are grateful for both the understanding and the effort.
The morning of, we each traveled separately and had time to make a few calls. So by strict definition, we didn’t have a secret wedding, per se. But it did take several weeks to get in personal contact with enough of an inner circle to feel like it was real. I will admit to dragging it out a bit, because… how often are you secretly married?
But now we are coming out as married. Now our rolling stones officially roll along together, yet we still have to figure out how to make it official for our dispersed circle of friends and family. How do you have a Real Wedding when so many of the people you love are righteously bound to their own realities? How dare we summon you all with babes in arms and home fires burning, to some remote location at extreme expense? It might be simple for some, but it will most definitely be out-of-the-way for most.
According to Wikipedia, “in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, teleportation is generally frowned upon”, but I am beginning to doubt this sacred text. It seems that building a wormhole is the quickest way through to seeing our friends and families at one table, smiling at us in person.