The day of the Church Rehearsal, the 21st, I had my one-and-only breakdown.
We were late. The whole day had been a go-go-go kind of situation, despite the many steps I took to make sure it wouldn't. I made crystal charms all morning, I printed off a sample program, I showered, but didn't have time to do my hair, I barley ate breakfast. I sent Allen to get Brittany from the airport. I went to Wal-Mart for some quick supplies.
I had only just realized that I had nine bridesmaids and damnit, I could make them do shit for me. Caitlin went to get me some leggings for under the dress (it was cold) and Lesia was sent to Staples to print off 120 programs on my special paper.
But I could do nothing about the traffic jam at Broadway and 8th, where we had to drive in order to get to the Church.
We left with twenty minutes to spare and arrived thirty minutes after the appointment.
That was stressful, I'm not gonna lie. Everyone was waiting for us.
I kept getting texts as well. Where are you? Everyone's waiting! Hurry up! The priest is gonna leave. (a complete lie, btw) Everyone is leaving - we have places to go to, you know. Mom is mad. (another lie.)
I was pissed.
And it just came down on me.
I cried.
Not huge sobbing tears, but I simply looked out the window, told people to stop damn texting me, and let the tears come. I had a headache, I had ungrateful, ass-y brothers who thought their gassing up was more important than my rehearsal, and I wanted to cry.
So I did.
I cried quietly, wiping the tears from my face, knowing I would look a mess but not giving a fuck either. I just couldn't shake this off.
Allen noticed, reaching over and holding my hand. His temper was already short as well, with the traffic jam, and seeing me upset made him even more testier. He said all the right things, kissed my hand, told me it would be alright and we got through the traffic jam.
By the time we drove up to the Church, I had stopped crying but damnit, my eyes were all red and I was still mad.
Apparently, so was Allen.
My brothers saw us and as soon as we got out of the car, Allen starts giving them shit.
Allen never gives anyone shit.
But that's also not the way to talk to my family.
I snapped at him, pushing him inside. He shook his head and walked off, my brothers giving each other lost looks. My wedding planner came up to me, asked if I was alright. I nodded, gesturing inside. Dad came up to me, as I was guiding/pushing everyone inside to get on with the rehearsal so they could get on with their very busy lives.
In the midst of all this, Allen gets a phone call from someone who has his nephew (our ringboy) and Allen must go PICK HIM UP RIGHT NOW or else he's going back to Patuanak.
Seriously?
At his own wedding rehearsal?
Grrrr.
He shook his head, angry now and upset that this woman would pull this kind of crap. I shook my head once he told me what he had to do. "You're not going," I said, not even contemplating it. "Send Tommy, or another one of the groomsmen. They can help you out." Allen clenched his fists, crossed his arms. He wanted to go, it was his only nephew, but he had to make a choice. He finally walked inside and Tommy came out, car keys in hand.
I waved at Tommy as he left and I stood silently for a second, trying to breathe.
I heard my Dad come up to me. "What's wrong, bih-toon?" he asked, using his old nickname for me. I felt my eyes welling up again. I shook my head, clenching my jaw shut. "Are you getting cold feet?" he asked, trying o figure out why his only girl was crying on her rehearsal.
"No!" It burst out of me, all that had happened, in an angry and jumbled mess. I cried now, sobs that hurt my chest and made my throat raw. I let go, and Dad hugged me, rubbing my back, like I was three again and my brothers had hurt my feelings.
Which they had.
Dad soothed me, let me cry and then said, "Alright now. That's enough." And just like that, it was. I stopped crying, wiping the tears from my face, and sighed. It was a deep, shaky sigh but it helped.
I walked inside the Church, went to talk to the priest, who told me to take a few minutes to compose myself, to breathe. There was no rush, no one was leaving, we had all the time we needed.
I breathed.
Then I went to talk to Allen.
"Babe," I said, snuggling into his arms. He smelled of Axe body spray and coffee. "Never, ever talk to my family that way again. I love you, but that crossed a line." I saw him shake his head and look away. I knew he thought he was defending me, but he wasn't, really.
I explained to him that they were my brothers and I would handle my conflict with them, the way I always had. I could swear at them and they would let it go, as I was their sister. But if he swore at them in anger, they would remember that always. I also pointed out that it was very disrespectful and I had never, and would never, swear at his family that way, no matter how much they pissed me off. I would never disrespect him that way.
He finally got it, shaking his head again.
"Sorry, babe. I just got mad that they got you mad." He leaned down, kissed me, and held my face in his hands, looking into my face - red, swollen eyes, no make up, one huge zit that wouldn't go away and he said, "I love you."
"I love you too." I grinned, kissing him and feeling like I was 17 again, and he had just held my hand.
Butterflies, love and happiness - in spite of it all.
We got through the rehearsal with the kids running amok, the Priest cracking jokes, and Allen and I grinning ear from ear. The boys were on their best behaviour, all hugging me and kissing my cheek after the rehearsal and giving Allen a manly slap on the back-hug combo.
All was good again.
We were late. The whole day had been a go-go-go kind of situation, despite the many steps I took to make sure it wouldn't. I made crystal charms all morning, I printed off a sample program, I showered, but didn't have time to do my hair, I barley ate breakfast. I sent Allen to get Brittany from the airport. I went to Wal-Mart for some quick supplies.
I had only just realized that I had nine bridesmaids and damnit, I could make them do shit for me. Caitlin went to get me some leggings for under the dress (it was cold) and Lesia was sent to Staples to print off 120 programs on my special paper.
But I could do nothing about the traffic jam at Broadway and 8th, where we had to drive in order to get to the Church.
We left with twenty minutes to spare and arrived thirty minutes after the appointment.
That was stressful, I'm not gonna lie. Everyone was waiting for us.
I kept getting texts as well. Where are you? Everyone's waiting! Hurry up! The priest is gonna leave. (a complete lie, btw) Everyone is leaving - we have places to go to, you know. Mom is mad. (another lie.)
I was pissed.
And it just came down on me.
I cried.
Not huge sobbing tears, but I simply looked out the window, told people to stop damn texting me, and let the tears come. I had a headache, I had ungrateful, ass-y brothers who thought their gassing up was more important than my rehearsal, and I wanted to cry.
So I did.
I cried quietly, wiping the tears from my face, knowing I would look a mess but not giving a fuck either. I just couldn't shake this off.
Allen noticed, reaching over and holding my hand. His temper was already short as well, with the traffic jam, and seeing me upset made him even more testier. He said all the right things, kissed my hand, told me it would be alright and we got through the traffic jam.
By the time we drove up to the Church, I had stopped crying but damnit, my eyes were all red and I was still mad.
Apparently, so was Allen.
My brothers saw us and as soon as we got out of the car, Allen starts giving them shit.
Allen never gives anyone shit.
But that's also not the way to talk to my family.
I snapped at him, pushing him inside. He shook his head and walked off, my brothers giving each other lost looks. My wedding planner came up to me, asked if I was alright. I nodded, gesturing inside. Dad came up to me, as I was guiding/pushing everyone inside to get on with the rehearsal so they could get on with their very busy lives.
In the midst of all this, Allen gets a phone call from someone who has his nephew (our ringboy) and Allen must go PICK HIM UP RIGHT NOW or else he's going back to Patuanak.
Seriously?
At his own wedding rehearsal?
Grrrr.
He shook his head, angry now and upset that this woman would pull this kind of crap. I shook my head once he told me what he had to do. "You're not going," I said, not even contemplating it. "Send Tommy, or another one of the groomsmen. They can help you out." Allen clenched his fists, crossed his arms. He wanted to go, it was his only nephew, but he had to make a choice. He finally walked inside and Tommy came out, car keys in hand.
I waved at Tommy as he left and I stood silently for a second, trying to breathe.
I heard my Dad come up to me. "What's wrong, bih-toon?" he asked, using his old nickname for me. I felt my eyes welling up again. I shook my head, clenching my jaw shut. "Are you getting cold feet?" he asked, trying o figure out why his only girl was crying on her rehearsal.
"No!" It burst out of me, all that had happened, in an angry and jumbled mess. I cried now, sobs that hurt my chest and made my throat raw. I let go, and Dad hugged me, rubbing my back, like I was three again and my brothers had hurt my feelings.
Which they had.
Dad soothed me, let me cry and then said, "Alright now. That's enough." And just like that, it was. I stopped crying, wiping the tears from my face, and sighed. It was a deep, shaky sigh but it helped.
I walked inside the Church, went to talk to the priest, who told me to take a few minutes to compose myself, to breathe. There was no rush, no one was leaving, we had all the time we needed.
I breathed.
Then I went to talk to Allen.
"Babe," I said, snuggling into his arms. He smelled of Axe body spray and coffee. "Never, ever talk to my family that way again. I love you, but that crossed a line." I saw him shake his head and look away. I knew he thought he was defending me, but he wasn't, really.
I explained to him that they were my brothers and I would handle my conflict with them, the way I always had. I could swear at them and they would let it go, as I was their sister. But if he swore at them in anger, they would remember that always. I also pointed out that it was very disrespectful and I had never, and would never, swear at his family that way, no matter how much they pissed me off. I would never disrespect him that way.
He finally got it, shaking his head again.
"Sorry, babe. I just got mad that they got you mad." He leaned down, kissed me, and held my face in his hands, looking into my face - red, swollen eyes, no make up, one huge zit that wouldn't go away and he said, "I love you."
"I love you too." I grinned, kissing him and feeling like I was 17 again, and he had just held my hand.
Butterflies, love and happiness - in spite of it all.
We got through the rehearsal with the kids running amok, the Priest cracking jokes, and Allen and I grinning ear from ear. The boys were on their best behaviour, all hugging me and kissing my cheek after the rehearsal and giving Allen a manly slap on the back-hug combo.
All was good again.
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