I Have Worn Both Pairs of Shoes

September 11, 1994, was the most beautiful day I had ever imagined. The ocean was as blue and calm as I had seen in days. The sky was light blue and clear—no clouds to be seen. The temperature was in the seventies. That day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. But something deep down inside was telling me it was all wrong. I had woken up with hives around my eyes; it looked awful. I was putting ice on them all morning. Everyone was trying to be nice and saying it didn’t look that bad. I was so stressed out! Half my wedding party was lying by the pool with hangovers from partying so much the previous night. I did everything in my power to stop my future husband from going out with them. I knew they were all drinking and doing drugs all night long. They all thought I was too uptight. I was just trying to have the perfect wedding day. I guess the joke was on me.
One of my friends, Nicole, who I also worked with, was doing all the hair for me and all the wedding party. Another coworker was doing all of our makeup. I was trying to relax. Nicole told me to have a few beers and maybe that would calm me down. Normally, on any other given day, two beers and I would have been tipsy. Not today—my nerves were like steel. Nothing was going to touch them. To top it off, I was hanging up my veil in the doorway of the hotel and I hit my head so hard I could see stars. If only I could have laughed at myself at that point. So now I had ice on my head and on my eyes. Quite the sight to see. I called up my future husband, Ron, and told him how I was feeling about the whole situation. He told me that no one brought any drugs to the wedding and that they knew I would be mad. He told me to enjoy the morning, and I would see him later that day.
I decided to go to Victoria’s room and have her start my makeup. Maybe that would calm me down. When she saw my eyes, I think she was freaked out, but she remained calm and did her best to calm me down while we were in her quiet room. Victoria performed miracles with the makeup. You would have never known that my eyes were red and swollen. I guess when God tries to show you signs to not take a certain path, and you ignore the signs, he throws them to you loud and clear when necessary. The afternoon went smoothly; everyone looked beautiful. All my bridesmaids were in black—how appropriate. I chose to do things differently. They did not wear dresses. They had wide-leg palazzo pants and halter-style jackets with three antique rhinestone buttons. When they stood for pictures it looked like they were wearing gowns. I wanted them to be comfortable for the day. I was never the person who followed tradition. That’s why I chose a destination wedding at that time, when no one was doing them. Newport, Rhode Island, was our favorite place. And being married there by the ocean was just spectacular for me. It was Ron’s second marriage and my first. I wanted the wedding small; there were only eighty guests—our closest family and friends. Our reception was to be at Hammersmith Farm. That’s the same place where President Kennedy and Jacquelyn Kennedy were married. I always admired Jacquelyn for her strength, poise, and fashion.
As the time approached for us to leave for the church, my dad came to the room and asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. I told him yes. It was like he knew I was about to make a wrong turn in my life. I was the third bride he was giving away. He had given away his sister and a cousin. I knew this was the hardest, as I was his daughter. We both took the elevator down to the car. He just kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to do this. “We can get into your Mustang and just drive away,” he said. Believe me, I thought about it. I wish I had had the courage at that moment to do it, as I was about to do something that my intuition was telling me not to do. Amazing in your twenties how you think you can save the world. I thought with all my heart I could save Ron.
We drove to the church and sat out front while all the guests were arriving. I was getting more anxious as the time approached. I could tell my dad was too. My maid of honor, who had the worst hangover, was useless to me. At this point I wished I had chosen someone else. But, again, I did not have the courage to speak my words at that point. Well, it was time to walk into the church and get married. As my dad and I approached the doors of the church. I could feel my heart racing faster than it ever had. The music began, and we started to walk into the church. For the first time in my life, I was experiencing every emotion that could ever surge through your body at once—fear, sadness, love, hope, happiness. All of a sudden I could hear my dad crying. I am not just talking about tears coming to someone’s eyes. He was sobbing. My dad was not a crier. The only time I had ever seen my dad cry was when his mom died. He had the entire church in tears, every man and woman, including me. It was a moving moment. He really didn’t want to let me go. He knew I was marrying the wrong person. The ceremony went smoothly after all that emotion. Another funny thing was that when we exchanged our wedding rings, my wedding ring would not go on my finger. It was like my finger completely swelled up, and it just wouldn’t go on. So I was married without my wedding ring completely on my finger. I should have just turned and ran then.