Fifty-four years ago on this date I married my first husband. Here's a photo of me, 18 years old, looking a little shell-shocked, sipping non-alcoholic, lime-sherbet-and-ginger-ale punch minutes after the brief marriage ceremony:
A week earlier, when I'd told Mother I'd accepted a marriage proposal, I'd expected her to try to talk me out of it. She could have, but she didn't try. Instead, she went into action and pulled together a small but lovely at-home wedding. Here's the pretty table she laid out in her dining room for the reception (note the green candles chosen to match the punch):
Fifty-three years ago on this date, living 200-plus miles away from my parents' home, I took the top layer of that wedding cake out of the freezer and discreetly dumped it in the garbage, probably hiding it under coffee grounds and potato peels. I didn't feel much like celebrating--especially if it involved eating freezer-burned cake.
I can laugh now when I remember those long-ago events. It helps that my two daughters from that marriage have brought so much joy and love into my life. It also helps that I've lived long enough to understand that one impulsive marriage doesn't invalidate all the good decisions I've made through the years. Of course, that marriage wasn't the only mistake I've ever made. True, it remains the shining star of my bad or questionable decisions, but when I lump them all together, it loses some of its luster.
These days I smile and shake my head when the song I once considered "our song" comes up on my iTunes playlist. It's a great song, and I still love it, but how could I have overlooked the warning in the lyrics?
The song is "Will You Love Me Tomorrow," performed by The Shirelles.
Click here to read the lyrics.
Thanks to Mp3SuperSound for posting the music video on YouTube.
It all turned out okay! All those decisions made you into who you are today, a grand lady indeed!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sister-Three, I needed that!
DeleteSomehow we overcame mistakes made when we thought we were mature and knew what we were doing, but were actually young and stupid. Wisdom gained.
ReplyDeleteMeryl, I've certainly acquired some amount of wisdom through the years, but I don't even come close to knowing as much as I thought I knew at 18.
DeleteWonderful story. And I remember that green ginger ale/lime sherbet punch from every wedding of my girlhood.
ReplyDeleteAnnette, I wouldn't mind having some of that punch right now, even though I've since read in some novel (the title of which I've forgotten) that some highfalutin college sorority women regarded that particular punch as a symbol of the lower class--much the same way some people scorn Velveeta cheese (which I also like very much).
DeleteGreat story Linda! My version of that punch calls for cranberry juice...it makes the lime sherbet the prettiest shade of mauve. Highfalutin sorority women don't know squat about good punch!
ReplyDeleteThe cranberry version sounds interesting, Holly. I've never been crazy about cranberry juice, but lime sherbet could make a world of difference.
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