Congrats, I’m Sorry
Last week I spoke with a lifelong friend, it was good to catch up. It’s always great to reconnect with important people from your past. During our conversation, I took the chance to congratulate him; I had heard his daughter was engaged. After he acknowledged the news, I followed with, “what’s going in your life, how are you?”
He laughed and said, “wedding stuff, my wife is deep into the planning.”
A bit confused, I responded, “when is the wedding?” Given his description of the wedding talk around his house, I was afraid I had missed something, and the wedding was just around the corner; it is, it’s in the Spring of 2026.
Of course, wedding planning is underway, what am I thinking? In case you haven’t heard, planning a wedding is a big deal. It consumes all the oxygen in any room and if not careful, most of the money you have, that isn’t carefully hidden. I have experienced this many times; not only has my daughter walked down the aisle, but my son is also married (his wedding was a production), and my wife has lots of relatives and it seems like one of them is always getting married.
I like weddings, no complaints here. But can we admit they have gotten a bit out of control? Seriously, they are out of control.
The effort that goes into planning for one day is extreme; and for the life of me I don’t know why. I know I am a neanderthal who doesn’t get it, but honestly, I don’t get it. Maybe there is so much emphasis on creating the perfect day because the rest of the married couples’ lives will likely be anything but perfect.
What’s funny though, is that the perfect day is a fantasy; a dream that almost always fails to materialize. No matter how much planning that seems to go into the wedding, there is chaos around every turn. Something goes wrong, someone does something stupid or wears the wrong sports coat for the pictures and now everything is ruined; a toast is not delivered well and now feelings are hurt. The stress of it all is enough to make tension replace joy.
I know there are a lot of decisions that must be made, it is seemingly an endless list. Ironically, most of the choices that are made are rarely noticed by anyone other than the bride and her mother. But I guess that is part of the dance.
Did I mention weddings are expensive, like seriously, ridiculously expensive. My friend dutiful discussed with his wife the budget for their daughter’s big day; her response, “what is the penalty if we go over the budget?”
That is a great marriage. Strong, clear communication with a tacit acknowledgement of what everyone already knows, the budget is the last thing the dad has left to hold on to and he isn’t in charge here either. Already he is about to give away his daughter to a boy who looks at him like he knows things you don’t. But, for the poor dad, just like the daughter who is moving on, budget management is fleeting; he doesn’t have any control and pointing out that those flowers are still pretty and cheaper is a comment that makes him feel good but was completely ignored by the two women in his life.
I have been to some great weddings; I haven’t been to many where the event was worth what they purportedly paid. But again, this isn’t about value, this is about making a statement, about showing all in attendance what is important to the bride, and the management skills of the mother of the bride.
Despite my whining about costs, and the pursuit for perfection, the chaos that ultimately ensues, and the mindset that beatings will continue until morale improves; none of those bothersome items compares to my annoyance with one aspect of a future wedding; it is the reality that all you will talk about until it is over with is the wedding, seemingly from sun up to sundown.
I don’t enjoy talking about the same thing over and over. Regardless, weddings will infiltrate every conversation. Now mind you, accepting the fact it is all we will talk about, I have tried hard in the past to take a different approach, to engage thoughtfully, in anticipation of the big day. I have feigned interest, pretended to be listening, acted like I was pondering choices, I have even asked questions to display my involvement; I have done it all, and I have faked it. This started thirty-six years ago when I was married. I will never forget being asked to weigh in on three different decisions; I was told my opinion mattered. I carefully thought about my answer, gave it and then watched as the exact opposite of what I suggested was chosen and my idea was summarily rejected either by my wife or future mother-in-law.
Frankly, the fact they didn’t listen didn’t bother me at all; the fact they wanted me to invest energy into something that was for show, was my problem. All these years later I have watched this repeatedly over and over. Men, this isn’t our day, we are a prop and should be prepared to do our part.
I know some women, maybe most women, will castigate me for my ridiculous attitude, and they are right. I am silly for even daring to opine about weddings; how could I even dare to think I understand. I am sorry for speaking up, I was just trying to bond with my friend; I think he can use me right now.
I love my daughter and my son-in-law and am blessed they are both in my life. I enjoyed their wedding, and I appreciate my daughter not being a bride-zilla; it makes me proud she wasn’t one of those. I don’t believe for a minute my friend’s daughter, nor his wife will be a problem. That is not who they are, however, my poor friend will still have to spend the next 18 months talking about that day; a day he has looked forward to for a long time; a day he will be glad when it is finally over, and he can chat with his wife about something other than the caterer.
Congrats my friend, I am here if you need me!
