So, I've got two weeks to be Sarabeth Dillon. I really should relish these moments. David Dillon is particularly fond of our last name and I suspect that on my wedding day, he will wax poetic about the end of an era or possibly something about a dynasty.
Just a few days ago, he asked me over the phone what he should wear to walk me down the aisle. I stopped for a moment, thinking that surely I had planned some kind of dress code for us... I had not. I told him to wear whatever he would be the most comfortable in, which could really be anything. On my 25th birthday, he showed up to lunch wearing my high school band uniform, so yeah. I'm leaving a lot up to chance here.
The truth is, I don't really care what he wears, or what anybody wears for that matter. I don't care if the cake is lopsided or if it rains. I'm honestly just glad Scott talked me out of eloping, because I'm really excited to be with my family as I'm transitioning into a new life. As a consumer and sometime-watcher of cable television, I'm a little confused by the general public's idea of what makes a perfect wedding. It seems like the world is fascinated (and frankly, kind of addicted) to proposal/wedding stories. The flashier, the better. As for me, I'd probably throw up on my shoes if Scott chose to propose at Disneyland or by putting my ring in a fortune cookie or at a Yankees game on the Jumbotron (I'd say no). The ring isn't the important part, the mark on my own personal timeline is. Starting on October 22, there's a slash through my life and Scott's, a distinct marker showing that our lives as two separate entities have halted. People don't put shows on Lifetime about that... unless one of us has inoperable cancer or something.
It won't be a wedding where people cry and look meaningfully into each other's eyes. It'll be better than that. There will be peacock feathers, or so I'm told.
Losing my Dillon won't actually matter much in the grand scheme of things. I'll have to wait longer when added to an alphabetical list. People will stop giving my sister-in-law my mail (maybe). I'll be a member of a new extended family that I've only begun to know. Better than that, though, I will be forging ahead into the unknown making my own family- a family of two! I'll be ruining holidays with botched cooking and fighting about what kind of paper towels to buy. But there will also be the good stuff, the stuff that acts as glue on the loose ends of our being. Oh, what a journey.
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