I read during the early summer of 1990 that more weddings take place during the last weekend of June than on any other weekend of the year. That revelation came a bit late for me if I was hoping to avoid the crowds–at almost exactly this time eighteen years ago, Adventure Guy and I were headed back down the aisle and out into the world as a married couple.
As far as the most popular weekend of the year, I didn’t plan it that way intentionally. June 30th was the earliest weekend we could get married that met the following criteria: I had graduated from college (May 12), my mother had finished the school year (May 20th or so), and Adventure Guy had finished his management development program and actually had vacation (June 28). My mother swore she’d never forgive me if I didn’t give her some time after she finished teaching to pull all the last-minute details together. We worked non-stop on wedding plans for the month and a half in between my move home and the wedding. I figure she owes me for being so compliant since my sister moved up her wedding date and proved that one can indeed pull together a very nice event in three months.
I’d love to say that Adventure Guy and I did something lovely and romantic this year to celebrate. Unfortunately, I had to work tonight since there was a school board meeting, and neither one of us thought ahead enough to do something over the weekend. We are planning to do dinner and a movie tomorrow night, though.
Since I don’t have any wonderful romantic tales from this year, I’ll leave you with a (now) humorous wedding-planning moment.
We married in Texas, which requires a three-day waiting period between the issuance of a marriage license and the actual ceremony. Not a problem, right? We’d been planning this wedding for over nine months, so what difference would three days make? A lot. See above for the reference to Adventure Guy having no vacation time until right before the wedding. He did not live in state, and was not planning to come into town until late on Thursday before our Saturday wedding.
We began trying to figure out how to get the license in time to make the wedding legal. I suggested meeting at one of the border county courthouses since licenses are valid state-wide. My mother was concerned that my descendants wouldn’t be able to find the record of our marriage if we got the license in a different county than the one in which we married (yes, this was really a big concern for her). The bigger concern, and the reason I ruled it out, was that Adventure Guy still couldn’t drive to any county in time to avoid missing work.
This is when having a father who is an attorney came in handy. Dad got to researching and discovered that the lack of a groom’s physical presence would not deter my ability to get a marriage license. I could do it with his proxy. Yes, I got a marriage license by proxy. I could have actually gotten married by proxy as well, but fortunately, it didn’t come to that!
What it did come to, however, was me and my handy notorized form standing in line at the courthouse with all the other engaged couples. Fun times, I tell you. Fun times. Especially when my father, who’d just finished a trial, came by to visit and wait with me. So then, not only was I getting a license by proxy, I was waiting in the marriage license line with my father–my father who had neglected to tell me the county clerk would only take cash for licenses, not checks and therefore ended up actually paying for the license as well. Can you imagine the whispers? “Look at that couple. He looks old enough to be her father!”
All that aside, I managed to survive the embarrassment, acquire the license, and marry Adventure Guy in totally legal fashion. My descendants better thank me for it!