Twenty years ago today, as a 100-degree-plus heat wave broke, my soon-to-be-husband and I stood on the east bank of the Hudson River while a rabbi pronounced us legally wed. We walked away with two documents: one New York state could recognize and one with religious significance. The Jewish one is called a ketubah. It’s in Hebrew, and there’s a big wine stain on it. No, as far as I know, they do not sell them pre-stained, but what do I know? According to Rabbi Fish—if that’s his real name; he seemed to improvise quite a bit—the spillage of the wine was “good luck.” And, also according to him, the document boils down to this: I am the guardian of my husband’s soul and he is supposed to take care of me.
I was never really certain how to put that into play. Did it mean that I should want for nothing, but I was responsible for his decisions? Or the other way around?
Since neither of us knows Hebrew, we started calling the parchment into play whenever the situation warranted: “You’re supposed to get the mail on Tuesdays; it’s in the ketubah!” “You have to come grocery shopping with me…” Yeah, I’m sure you get the picture.
So after the spillage of wine and a sudden breeze that almost took my veil and half of the groomsmen’s yarmulkes, there was a party. I’m told the food was good. Between thanking all our guests and posing for pictures, I barely got more than a few bites. We stopped for pizza on the way home from our own wedding.
Much as I play-gripe about the Bridezilla horrors of the day, it was a great party. We had a smoking band, my brothers sat in on drums and guitar, small nephews wore tie-dye and danced, my dotty little Polish grandmother had to be rescued from going into the men’s room.
It sounds like a cliché to say that it was all a blur or that time goes so quickly, but it was and it did. I blinked and the wedding was over. I blinked again and it’s twenty years later. In my head, I know time passed. My hair changed color. Entire whole people grew up during that interval. The small nephews are in college and my little Polish grandmother is probably somewhere in the hereafter playfully scolding her husband while he asks how much she spent on that new dress.
It will probably be a quiet celebration, but Husband has vowed to take me back to the wedding hall on the Hudson one day so we can actually try their food. He has to. After all, it’s in the ketubah.
Congrats on twenty years. We’ve reached 42.
The Baha’i wedding vow is (holding hands and in unison) “We will all verily abide by the will of God”. (Yes, that’s the entire wedding. The rest is up to the couple) I wonder if I can use “the will of God” like you and hubby use the ketubah. It’s worth a shot. I think I’ll try it. Shhhh, don’t tell.
Ha, love it, Yvonne! 😀
Congratulations on 20 years! Happy happy, and wishing you at least 20 more… together 🙂
Thank you, Jacquie!
Congratulations to you and Husband, Laurie. Twenty years of marriage is wonderful millstone – er, MILEstone 🙂
Thank you, Chris, so that’s why I’m feeling a bit worn down…
Congratulations, Laurie and hubs (I do know his name but since you didn’t mention, I take it he doesn’t want to be public) That’s an admirable milestone.
Thank you, Lyn. Yes, he prefers not to be linked to me in public. 😀
Congratulations! Great article, Laurie 🙂
Thank you, Daphne! So much material…
That is the most amazing wedding photo I have ever seen. If it’s not too late to fish the photographer out of the Hudson, please give him a medal. Oh and big hugs to you and the good-looking bearded gentleman next to you. 😀
Thank you, AC! Okay, I’ll spill. His name is Dan and he has a background in journalism and had been the photographer for our local paper. I have to dig up more shots, but one of my favorites was taken at sunset near the river. I’m in a chair with my giant dress spread all around me. I’m ringed by groomsmen and on my lap is a small nephew in a tie-dye suit.
Beautifully written! I just stumbled upon this as I was logging off tonight – what a lovely way to end the day. I have also been blessed like you to be with the same man for most of my adult life – let’s see, it would be 38 years now… You described the early scene with a casual intimacy that touched me this fine evening. Blessings to you and yours, Laurie!
Thank you, Marsha! And to you and yours!
My oh my Laurie, what a beautiful bride even with the sneakers. I love the idea of brandishing the ketuhba at your husband. I’m sure he would do anything for you without it.