Lynn says that the best achievement of the whole wedding was that I hadn’t managed to see the reception space until after the wedding. That our family took care of that and somehow managed to make me stay out of it was a monumental achievement for which I am grateful. Everything was gorgeous. Even though I planned it, secretly I didn’t think tulle would work (I mean, ick—tulle) but it covered the shelf with our childhood photos and made everything kind of floaty and magical along the mirrored wall. The flowers were lovely, and the colors all came together nicely.*
We came into the room and went straight to the dance floor for our first dance. We took lessons, but there is no overcoming our most serious ballroom impediment–I’m not meant to lead. And, since Lynn is too short to see over my shoulder (bless her), I have to even though I’m really bad at it. My lack of skills only got worse once we got in there and I started to get nervous with all of those people watching. Luckily Lynn caught on and started to twirl me around, rather than sticking to our routine. Everyone clapped and we loosened up for the rest of the dance.
After my dad and Lynn’s brother each gave very sweet toasts to us, it was my turn.
This year my grandparents have been married for sixty years, and I wanted to celebrate their commitment to each other. Back when we announced the wedding my grandmother had given us a talking-to about what we were doing. She didn’t understand it, didn’t agree with it, and thought we were making a mistake. We talked it out and since then we hadn’t heard anything else about it—I think she just wanted to have her say. So I was scared to get up there and address them directly, but even though I got a little choked up I managed to get through it, and she thanked me for the kind words. And then she and my grandfather proceeded to dance together at my big, gay wedding. They were the last ones on the floor, and even started putting on songs they wanted to hear.
But that was later. First we had the amazing meal (worth every cent!), danced with our dads, cut the delicious cake, sort of threw the bouquet (I wasn’t going to, but my friend who is about to be engaged stuck it in my hand, called over the photographer, and documented that she did, in fact, catch it), and did silly conga (and other) dances with our friends. There were some glitches with the music at first and not everyone stayed as long as we would have liked (that’s what you get when your over-70 friends come to your party), but we had a ball.
The best part, though, was late in the evening. The gazebo had been lit up, and Lynn and I took the photographer out for some final photos. We got to be (almost) all alone, and dancing in the gazebo in the cool evening air.
Then we went in and helped our family clean everything up. I know it sounds funny, but that was the most fun of the night. We joked and hung out with our family, shoved everything into the back of the truck, took down the decorations, and then got into our car and drove ourselves to the hotel for a long bath and a bottle of champagne.
*A quick planning note: if you want pictures of your decorations, YOU MUST TELL SOMEONE TO TAKE THEM! I forgot and since everyone was focused on taking pictures of people instead of things, you have to rely on my word that it looked good. But it did, it really did.