|No pictures of the shoes--ended up in the trash.|
The wedding hoopla is over and what a wonderful day it turned out to be. Our daughter was beautiful and the handsome groom swept her off her feet with love. After my diagnosis two years ago, I wasn't sure I would see this day; but there I was reveling in every single moment.
Almost everything went smoothly for the glorious occasion but will share a "Rob" story because he both entertains and exasperates me on any given day. About two months before the union I reminded him a tux was in order for his only daughter's wedding. Oh no!"my beloved exclaimed, "I already have one in the closet."
He then proceeded to dig out his twenty year old tux he wore when he had about twenty more pounds on his body. As I stood there watching this whole scenario unfold before my eyes I was appalled --no other words can describe what I was seeing. Imagine a very dated looking tux tailored to fit a much larger man being worn by the father of the bride. It was not a pretty sight but he was adamant about wearing it saying no one would look at him anyway and besides, he was not going to spend a dime renting a new one when this-- butt ugly (my take on it) -- one would work.
I have learned in our 38 years of marriage that sometimes I need to step back, give him some space, smile as if I agree and then begin scheming on how this was going to go my way--knowing come hell or high water in the end he was NOT wearing that tux to the wedding.
A month later when he reminded me a button was missing (yes, it was lacking a button) on this prehistoric tux, I stood in front of the button rack at the fabric store and thought--what am I doing? For crying out loud, this is our daughter's wedding and the time has come to put my foot down to end this conversation. I drove home practicing my speech that would sway him to my way of thinking and also devised an ultimatum if he could not be persuaded.
I walked into the house and declared, "You are getting a new tux for your daughter's wedding, period." Before I could counter with or else blah blah blah will happen, he looked up and said, "okay". Okay? I have been plotting on how to convince you and you say okay? Hell and high water has reached its end.
The saga on his attire, unfortunately, did continue. A tux was rented except for the shirt which he had recently purchased and the shoes which were in his closet next to the-- uglier then sin-- tux. How much can tux shoes change in twenty years?
Fast forward to the blessed day when ten minutes before were to walk down the aisle with our daughter, Rob disappears. Nerves? A hankie for his tears? Where did he go?
In the nick of time he emerges from the room as we are escorted to the entrance. I didn't realize it at that moment but, remember those twenty year old shoes that "will work just fine"? Duct tape was needed to keep them from flopping apart and tripping him as he walked his precious daughter down the aisle. Duct tape on his shoes. At his daughter's wedding. Thirty-eight years of "Rob" moments and this one certainly takes the cake.
Thanks for reading # 487 of 7777.