A Year is as a Day

I've always been fascinated by the perception of time passing.  I remember as a six-year-old being told that Christmas would come around next year.  Next year?  Whoa, that's 1/6th of my entire life, that's practically forever!  Talking with my grandparents, they speak of years as if they were days.  And when you're talking about 1/86th of a lifetime, it's easy to see how little time a year can be. 

Lynn and I celebrated our first year of marriage at the beginning of this month.  At turns it is by far the longest and the shortest of years.  So much has happened: we've moved, I took a new job, we've traveled far and wide, and adopted a cat—we've lived a full year. 

And yet, has it really been that long?  Has it really been an entire year since we gathered together with so many friends and family members?  There are some folks reading this very post who I haven't seen in a year, surely not a whole year has gone by.  I look at the ring on my finger.  It's a bit dinged up, turns out I'm not very kind to my hands.  But I still notice it, I still fiddle with it.  It still feels new.

It was with this mix of feelings about how much and how little time has passed that Lynn and I decided to spend the weekend of our first anniversary back in the area where we were married.  We stayed in the same hotel as our wedding weekend, and had dinner at the restaurant where our rehearsal dinner was held.  We even went up to visit the place where our ceremony was held and took a few pictures.

It put things in perspective.  A year.  Not a long year, not a short year, but a good year.  A year full of change and excitement, and not a small amount of struggle and learning.  A year in which we learned what it means to make a life from two, and from which we can go confidently into the next.  There will be a time when this whole year will seem like a day.  But it will always be a day worth remembering, full of years of good experiences.

Standing On Tip-Toes (Part II)

I arrived back at the hotel, and moved from the room I had stayed in Friday night to the room that I would stay in with my wife on our wedding night. Getting dressed was quick and easy, and I had a nice few moments of downtime with my mom, putting on the cuff links she gave me.

The drive up to the Waterview, where the wedding and reception were held, will stand out in my memory of that day. It's a beautiful drive, through a sleepy little town and up a winding river. It was around four in the afternoon, and the sun dripped through the colored leaves in that lazy-late-afternoon way. I drove, followed by cars of groomsmen and parents, along that river and followed its bends. And just before arriving at the Waterview, you swing uphill and drive across the dam that creates Lake Zoar above the river. To your left is the low river valley you've just come through, and to your right the shining blue water opens up into a wide lake with steep shores. It left me with such a sense of peace.

Once there, I was shuffled off to the very back of the room where the ceremony was to take place, lest I spy my bride taking pictures outside. It was a great time to hang out with my groomsmen and my cousin (who officiated), as we sipped champagne brought to us and waited for guests to settle in. Eventually, we moved to the lobby to line up, and then we were off through the doors and down the aisle.

I walked up the aisle and took my place next to my cousin and watched as the groomsmen and bridesmaids all followed. But I kept glancing back at the doors off to the side where the procession came from. I knew that after the maid of honor, I'd see my bride and her father. But there was one little detail I had forgotten. When the music changed slightly and my bride entered the room, everyone stood up. It didn't occur to me that everyone would stand, it had completely slipped my mind! More to the point, I couldn't see her. She was in the room and on her way and we were getting married and I had to wait until she walked from the side doors to the bottom of the aisle before I could see her.

A friend later told me I was standing on my tip-toes trying to see over the crowd.

And then I saw her, and my breath caught. My bride, walking right toward me. It was everything I could do to stand in place. I'm not sure there are words a groom can use to describe his bride that would make sense outside of that moment, but she was so beautiful.

The ceremony seems like a series of moments now. I remember it in little snippets. Smiling at Lynn. Laughing at the jokes my cousin told. Feeling the affection of all these friends and family who traveled from all over the country to be with us. The conviction with which she said her vows. The sincerity with which I said mine. The kiss at the end was a release, a celebratory expression of all the feelings after having to stand still and not pull her into my arms for so long! It was such a personal ceremony, the kind that only my cousin who grew up with me could provide, and yet accessible to everyone through his words and the way he brought everyone in. Lynn's cousins added many kind words and sage advice. Friends sang a song and read a sonnet that were what we'd been singing and reading to each other throughout our relationship—but not in so many words and notes. Nothing could dampen those moments, and nothing did. Even the little interruptions added to the sense of sharing a personal moment with everyone in the room.

We walked back down the aisle as husband and wife. The only thing left to do was celebrate!

So There Was This Party, And... (Part I)

I woke up on Saturday, October 4th in a hotel room. I always have this momentary confusion when I wake up in hotel rooms, that little bit of "where am I?" Sitting up, knocking the book I had dropped as I fell asleep to the floor, I look around the room sun-lit by a beautiful day. There's a full suitcase, I must be on my way somewhere else. There's a jacket, the weather just started getting a little cooler. There's my cellphone, charging. There's my tuxedo, I'm getting married today.

I'm getting married today!

Then it all rushes back in. Wednesday night prior, friends and family started arriving in New York. I took Thursday off from work, thinking I'd have a lot to do at the last minute. Everything was done, so I bummed around the natural history museum and Central Park with some friends. Thursday night I took the train out to CT, meeting a couple Brothers along the way. Friday was a golf outing with the families, a quick rehearsal, and a fantastic rehearsal dinner at this little Italian place. (It used to be a bank, and the interior still looks like it. The vault is used as the wine cellar.)

Friday night our families and friends took over the hotel bar. That was one of the best times during the weekend, to see all of these people who we care about meeting and talking and having a good time together.

Then I woke up on Saturday, in a hotel room, and it was my wedding day. The hotel was pretty quiet that morning (not surprising, given the previous night). But a couple of the groomsmen, friends, and I had plans to go for lunch. It was to be an adventure, some place we've never been before. This was not terribly difficult as the town we were in, Shelton, Connecticut, was a town to which only I had been before. So it was suggested that we choose one of two options: a burger place in Meriden, or a burger place in New Haven.

We chose Meriden, not for the location, but for the burgers. Meriden is home to Ted's Restaurant, maker of the world-famour steamed cheeseburgers. Yes, steamed.

Meriden, as it turns out, is 35 miles from Shelton. It took us a while to get there. Being a world-famous place, and featured on many a burger magazine and TV special, we weren't sure what to expect. We were not expecting the tiny little hole-in-the-wall (in a good way) burger joint that we found after pulling up onto the curb in Meriden. Ted's Restaurant has three tables and a counter that divides the three tables from the kitchen. The walls barely contain all this. But quite unsurprisingly for these real culinary treasures, the burgers were fantastic. We almost had seconds, if not for the very large meal to come that evening. And yes, we drive half an hour to sit in a little place for 20 minutes and drive half and hour back. And yes, it was completely worth it.

Of course, we also had to stop on the way back at a Dunkin' Donuts. Some crazy Californians with us had never been, and there were just so many that we passed on the way to lunch.

Finally back at the hotel that afternoon, it was time to begin getting ready for the evening. And oh, what an evening it was!

To be continued...

A Little Too Quiet

The wedding is now within the 10-day forecast on Weather.com. Somehow that makes it more real to me, as if that somehow guarantees that the day will, in fact, arrive.

They're calling for showers, by the way.

Things are fairly quiet. Lynn and I have a few minor details to pin down, but for the most part everything is ready to go. Everyone keeps asking us, "Are you nervous?" "Are you ready?" "Are you going crazy?"

Not really, no.

We're excited, and we're looking forward to it. But we're not stressed, and that's a wonderful feeling. It's nice to sit on the couch at night and think, shouldn't we be stressing about something? Shouldn't something be going horribly wrong so we can fix it at the last possible moment? Sure, something is bound to go wrong. This is a huge event, with many moving parts, and people traveling from all over the country. But it's set up so well now—thanks primarily to Lynn's meticulous planning—that we have the luxury of sitting back and enjoying the days leading up to it.

And we are.

Clearfield, PA

Last weekend, Lynn and I took a whirlwind road-trip to Michigan and back for a wedding shower. We borrowed her parents car on Thursday night and parked it in the city so we could leave right after work on Friday.

Friday afternoon, we left New York around 3pm. Expecting a ten-hour drive, we hoped to get to the Detroit area by 1am. Then we'd have plenty of sleep before Lynn went to the 12:30 shower (I was to show up only at the end to say hello to the relatives and family friends). The first part of the drive was uneventful, we flew through Jersey into the wonderful (but long) stretch of I-80 through the Pennsylvania mountains.

About a third of the way across the state, and firmly in the middle of nowhere, we got a flat tire. The car we had borrowed was nice enough to have tire pressure sensors, so the light came on and we had plenty of time to get off the next exit before the tire deflated significantly. So, off we went down the ramp of exit 120 and into a small gas station.

Now, of all of the great state of Pennsylvania, there has been only one location that I've stopped while passing through. This particular exit of the interstate has a little local restaurant called the "Dutch Pantry" that has good food and nice service. This restaurant is the half-way point between Catskill, NY and Detroit, MI, and so is the place where my father always stops when driving back to Michigan to visit his family. So, having been on many of those drives myself, I've been there more than a few times. So it was only natural that our flat tire would leave us nowhere else but the exit with the Dutch Pantry, at the gas station right next door.

Having had a couple flat tires in the past (once I lost both back tires at the same time!), I knew I could change the tire and we could go as far as we could on the spare. Opening the trunk, we saw that we had a full-size spare tire and were delighted to think that in fifteen minutes or so we'd be back on our way to Michigan. So, I pulled out the jack while Lynn went to grab us some dinner. It didn't take me long, however, to discover that I was not going to get that flat tire off the car.

This particular brand of car has a special lug nut (one of the five) that requires a special key to get it off the wheel. We did not have this key. We turned the car inside out, but no key. So, we called AAA to ask them how we could get the key to get the tire off. They politely informed us that the car company does not release universal keys, so our only option was to take the car to a dealership. They were also kind enough to point out that the nearest dealership was 120 miles southwest of us in Pittsburgh.

By this point, the sun had set, and hours had passed.

Around 10pm, it looked like all hope was lost. A tow truck was on the way, but it could only take us to Pittsburgh. We had tried calling car rental companies to get us moving again, but on a Friday night they were all closed (and we were nowhere near an airport). So, the tow truck would take us to Pittsburgh, we would stay in a hotel, and when the dealership opened Saturday morning they would replace the tire. Then we would have to turn around and go home, since we would certainly miss the shower.

Hope arrived in the form of John, the driver of the tow truck. He looked at our locked lug nut, and offered the one thing we hadn't considered: to simply break it off. He hammered a larger nut over the locked nut and unscrewed it. After that, our full size spare tire was on and road-ready in a matter of minutes. John assured us this method would ruin the locked nut, but that didn't even happen--it was only slightly scratched.

With a perfectly fine tire on the car, we were back on the road again. After a long night, we pulled into my mom's driveway around 4:30am. It was more than worth it. The shower was lovely (well, at least what I saw of it), and it was great to see family and friends even if only briefly. All too early Sunday morning, we were heading east again--but with a car full of presents.

Now the car has no locking lug nuts at all, only plain ones that can be easily removed by the wrench in the trunk.

Spring is in the Air

So much time since the last post. Things get busy, and the old blog gets neglected. I suppose it's a good thing, though, to prioritize life over updates.

After the last post, Lynn and I traveled to Raleigh, NC to Mu Beta Psi's National Convention. It was fantastic as always to see old friends, meet new ones, and celebrate together the diversity and history of our organization. I had the distinct privilege of signing and presenting the charter for our newest chapter at Rutgers University. I was also thrilled to be re-elected as National President for another year. There's a lot I hope to accomplish in the coming year.


Then began a string of performances. Lynn performed at the culmination of a class she had taken in preparing opera roles. We both went to see our friend Marjorie perform stand-up. We went to Princeton, NJ to see another friend sing. Then Marjorie took us with her to see Bill Cosby perform in Connecticut. He was hilarious. He came on stage in sweat pants and a sweatshirt, sat down on a chair and just started talking. It was as much a conversation as it was a performance.

We've also kicked wedding planning into high gear. In a couple of weekends, we've set out the save-the-date cards, invitations, menu, table linens, floor plan, cake, florist, rehearsal dinner venue, and singers for the ceremony. It seems as if every time we make a host of decisions about the wedding, that there cannot possibly be any more decisions to make—but there are always more.


More recently, we were besieged by the Pope in his recent visit to NYC. Last Sunday morning, he visited the Trade Center site to offer a prayer and a blessing. The ramp down to the site, and the gate that allows trucks from the street to access it, is right in front of our building. (That's our building at the top of the ramp in this picture.) So, in order to protect the Pope, they set up a bullet-proof tent in front of our main entrance in which the Pope could move from his motorcade car to the Popemobile. Then he rode the Popemobile down the ramp to the spot where he prayed. All this time, we were not allowed to use the door to our building. Lynn and I decided to sleep in, and wait it out, rather than try and go anywhere. The Secret Service sent around a memo to everyone in our building to please keep our windows closed, for fear of sniper fire. But it was such a beautiful day, we left them open. Our windows didn't have the vantage point for anything of the sort anyway.

There have been many beautiful days here lately. Spring is definitely here, and as the trees bloom and skies clear, I remember one of the many reasons I love this city so much.

A Gradual Catching of Breath

Autumn is a great time of year--my favorite. I love the colors, the smells, the cooling temperatures. I love apple cider. I really love apple cider.

It's also been an exciting time of year for me this particular fall. I returned, relatively unscathed, from the trip across Italy and Paris. I'll try to write more about that as time permits. Not long after that, I was down in New Brunswick opening a new Chapter of my Fraternity. And perhaps the biggest change in my life thus far, this weekend my fiancé moved into my apartment with me.

Fortunately, it's a two-bedroom apartment, so we'll have plenty of space. It's an adjustment, and one that is not completely without a bit of turmoil, but it's one worth making.

Now, as my favorite season comes into its own, I can work on the little things. I can build a daily routine; something I've been waiting for quite some time to do. I can rediscover my city. I can upload some pictures of my trip. I can settle into a home that's new, despite my seven months of living there. I can buy some apple cider at the farmer's market. Things can slow, things can settle. Contentment is just over the horizon, and it smells like autumn.

Engaged

Never been happier.