As I stood in the middle of Cashman Center, surrounded by giddy, over-the-moon brides-to-be, I felt more than just a bit out of place. I was a fish out of water, out of matrimony and quite simply, out of faith. As I stood amongst the hopefuls, I wondered: What's this really all about?
I walked from booth to booth, eavesdropping on all the pretty, petty young women who were more concerned with outdoing their best friends by having a bigger, better wedding ceremony. I felt sick. I mean, is that what planning a wedding was all about? Being better than the Joneses? And judging from the exhibitors, they were there to help do just that: Gouge them on their emotional purchases.
I know, I know, that sounds a bit harsh and jaded, and just because marriage didn't work for me the one time I tried it was no reason to believe that each and every woman walking through the events center that day wouldn't live happily ever after with the man of her dreams. Still, there was a small part of me, the older, more experienced divorced woman, that wanted to scream at them from my perch, "Don't do it! Get out while you can! He'll steal the best years of your life and then potentially trade you in on a model that is almost exactly the same as you, only newer! Finish college! Travel! Make sure you experience everything this world has to offer before trading it all in for a life of compromise and mediocrity by committing yourself to one man for the rest of your life!"
But I didn't. Instead, I walked around from booth to booth trying desperately to find even a glimpse of the true meaning of all the hubbub.
Most of the exhibitors completely ignored me; perhaps it was due to the lack of fanfare surrounding me. I had no pushy mother-in-law-to-be goading me into trying on a hideous, overdone, overpriced wedding gown, no bridesmaids pleading with me not to pick out prom-like dresses, all the while promising that they would be able to wear them again, and no bling-bling on my left ring finger signifying that someone wanted to spend eternity with little old me.
I wandered into a booth that offered a wide variety of wedding cakes priced as high as my mortgage. And as I looked around, a saleswoman approached me.
"Hello darling!" she said enthusiastically.
"Oh, hello," I answered politely.
"So, when is your big day?" she inquired.
"Ha! Me? Oh, no, I'm not getting married. I'm not even sure I believe in marriage anymore," I said.
"Why not?" she asked. "You are young and pretty; you'd better get a move on before no one wants to marry you." She was dead serious. "Men like women that are young and beautiful—trust me, you'd better stop being so picky before you get passed up." Holy cow, is that what it's all about? Marry the first man who asks before you're past your freshness date? I wanted to head-butt the snot out of the old gal, but I didn't. Instead, I made my way toward the closest exit. And that's when I saw her.
She was young and beautiful and glowing. She stood out in the room full of brides-to-be as she held a gorgeous baby boy in her arms. As I approached I could hear her talking to the infant. "Isn't this silly? Look at all these silly girls, yes. Mama doesn't care about all this crazy stuff, no. We just can't wait for Daddy to come home so we can get on with the rest of our lives, huh big boy, yes." The baby cooed in agreement. I felt compelled to talk to her.
She told me that her future mother-in-law had dragged her there but that she couldn't care less about a big wedding or a fancy gown. None of it mattered to her; all she wanted was her man, home safely. She said that she didn't know she was pregnant until after her beau had been sent to Iraq to fight for his country, but he was coming home to meet his son and marry his girl, after having been wounded defending the freedom of people like me whom he had never even met. There was love and hope in her eyes as she spoke about him and the life they would soon share.
And in that instant, that beautiful young woman restored my faith in what love and marriage are truly about. And it's not the party, or the dress, or the flowers or the fanfare; it's about the bigger picture, about family and a commitment to true love, until death do us part.