Chapter 6 - The Wedding

Time it was, and what a time it was,

It was, a time of innocence,

A time of confidences.

Long ago it must be, I have a photograph,

Preserve your memories, they’re all that’s left you…

Simon & Garfunkel

July 6,1974. We were babies. 23 years old. Earlier chapters told the story behind this moment  I will forever remember our special day. The love we shared. The love that will never, ever die...

The Wedding

We were both in college, living at home until the day we married, (except for my six month trial run sharing an apartment with a girlfriend). As college seniors in 1973, we considered graduation as merely a baton pass to the bigger prize – law school for George, student teaching and my credential for me. Our wedding would have to wait until one of us (me) had completed grad school and found gainful employment. 

I remember when (early spring, 1973) and where (headed to a Dodgers game) I pulled out the only calendar available (the back of my check register) and threw out some possible dates for our Big Day. I balked at a June date. Too cliché. We settled on July 6, 1974 – a little more than a year away. George would have one year of law school under his belt, and could step into his summer job - now managing  Firestone stores. I would have my credential and hopefully find a teaching position before school started in September.

My seventies fashion sense envisioned a wedding in a park-like setting, wearing a country-girl influenced dress. I worked for JW Robinson's department store and found my perfect wedding dress - a floor length beauty, complete with an eyelet pinafore - straight out of  Country Brides magazine. With my employee discount, I got my $120 dream dress for under a hundred bucks! A floppy wide brimmed hat would complete my John Denver/Country Girl-worthy, field-of-flowers wedding.

Farrah had the hat I wanted...

George had a different dream wedding scenario. I had not given away any secrets about my dress, when he said, “I have always imagined you walking down a church aisle, and lifting your veil for our first kiss as husband and wife.” I was so touched by his romanticism and honesty. How could I deny the man I adored his wedding moment? A church wedding it would be. There was one problem, though. My country girl dress would not work with that veil he dreamed of, and with a no-return policy, my only option was to buy a second wedding dress! I went all out - $150 for dress number two, plus a $20 veil and $10 headpiece. 

Dress No. 2. And the veil of George's dreams.

Home sewn bridesmaids dresses. Field flowers in baskets. And those wide brim hats!

I left the field flowers and wide brim hats for my bridesmaids, and walked down the aisle to the love of my life. He lifted my veil for our first, “Mr. and Mrs.” kiss, and I loved that moment as much as he did.

Veil lifted. Husband and Wife. Perfection

July 6, 1974. And yes, the tuxedos were yellow. It was the 70's!

Our wedding coincided with my parents’ retirement, and we knew they could not finance a large affair. Still our day was everything we dreamed of, surrounded by family and friends, with a reception at Brother’s beautiful home. 

On a shoestring budget, and in order to save the $10 delivery charge, we transported the cake in the back of George's Pinto - in 100 degree Valley heat!

George’s parents gave us a wonderful wedding gift – airfare for a two week vacation in Hawaii. It would be George's first air travel, and only my second. And George, as always, saved enough for our hotel and expenses. Our wedding night would be spent at a hotel near the airport. And it would be our first overnight together – ever. 

After the reception. Headed to our first overnight together!

And among other wedding night discoveries, I learned yet another sweet tidbit about my husband...

Did I mention George lived at home until our wedding day? My remarkably strong and capable man saw no reason to leave home. “Why pay rent when I can barely afford my law books?” he would reason. I would discover on our wedding night that his mom packed his suitcase for our Hawaiian honeymoon! He had to call home from the hotel to ask her where she packed his checkbook!

Let the adventures begin!

Honeymoon bliss. The love that lasted a lifetime....

Hawaiian Honeymoon Memories, 1974. I would have to work on my Kahuna's clothing choices!

To those who have been following my trip down Memory Lane, I thank you for indulging my shameless romanticism. I hope to write more chapters, if only for myself - recollections of our joys and challenges as newlyweds and new parents. Navigating all that life and marriage threw our way in our 43 years of marriage. We all know by now I'm a hopeless over-sharer, and writing has certainly been my grief therapy. 

As with the old photos I shared, time has blurred the focus of so many memories. The colors have faded, yet the images have reminded me that life doesn't have to be remembered in the detail it was lived. Remembering bits and pieces of our journey has softened the pain of my grief. I have smiled more than cried as the chapters have emerged from my memories to these posts. And I know. George is with me. Always. As I turn the corner and lean into my new life, I will cherish the years as his Lovely Paula Marie.