A Letter to a Young Bride on the Event of Her Engagement

In this picturesque corner of Central Park, an earnest young man made my sister the happiest of women.

The subterfuge and sneaky underhanded dealings required to get my sister to New York City, let alone this particular carefully chosen nook of Central Park at exactly the right time, were sophisticated, and supported ably by this cast of characters.

I haven’t met any of them, but I’m grateful to them all for giving her the special gift of such a magical beginning to a beautiful lifelong love story.  Even if they nearly gave her a heart attack.

I guess it isn’t technically the beginning, since they have dated a good while, but in 50 years, at their golden wedding anniversary, it will seem so.

She couldn’t have picked a better brother-in-law for me.  😉  I am so glad he is her choice, and she his.  I was thrilled when she brought him home, and I’m extra thrilled to know he’ll be sticking around.

My sister, the baby of the family, is twenty-one.  She is six years younger than I was on the day I got engaged.

Given that I am very much older (and therefore must be very much wiser) than her, I wanted to give her some advice.  I imagine she’ll be getting a great deal of advice in the next few months.  Thresholds lend themselves to uninvited opinions.  Knowing how annoying such advice can be, nevertheless I take the Eldest Sister’s prerogative.  I taught her to tie her shoes: ergo, she must suffer through the following tiresome list.

1. There is still a place for pageantry in the twenty first century.  Your wedding budget could probably be a nice down payment on a car, but a marriage ceremony is a rite of passage, and it deserves a celebration (if that’s your thing – and I know it is).  It will undoubtedly be the biggest party you’ll ever throw, so go ahead and have fun with thinking up the details.
2. It’s absolutely vital that you have at least one tearful fight with our mom and dad over how much you’re spending.   You’ll be happier if you force our parents to set a reasonable budget, but even if you do, they’ll freak out at some point.  This is in Title 9, Chapter 14, § 7.2303 of the Parenting Manual.  (You’ll get one of those later, when you have kids).  This fight will not really be about money.  It’s hard to let go, especially of the baby.
3. Be very, very nice to our mother.  Be sweet to her through this process.  Looking back later, you’ll be happy you made the effort.
4. When you pick something (theme, invites, dress, cake), go with it and don’t look back.
5. Spend a little extra and have a bridal portrait made ahead of time.  One day you will be happy to have a record of when you were young, before children changed your body, before gray cropped up in your hair.  Ask me how I know this, if you’d like to hear some bitching and moaning.
6. Your reception will go fast.  Don’t waste too much of the beginning of it trotting all over the place and having pictures made in every pretty corner of your chosen site.  You’ve got a lifetime to take pictures together, but you’ll never again have most of your friends and family in the same room.  You don’t want to miss one second of your drunk third cousin playing air guitar.  Plus, it totally rocks when you walk in the room and the whole crowd leaps to their feet and applauds for you.
7. Be certain that the hotel room where you’ll stay on your wedding night has bubble bath.
8. Take a real honeymoon.  Tell every single person in every place you go that you are on your honeymoon.  You’ll get lots of free stuff.
9. Wear your engagement ring on your right hand when you walk down the aisle.  Put a penny in your shoe.  Don’t write your married name down anywhere until you are married.  Don’t forget the old, new, borrowed, and blue.
10. After all the work you’ll have done to plan the ceremony, you get to see very little of it- you come in last, don’t forget.  You’ll be tempted to look around at how it all turned out when those doors are flung open and the processional music plays and you begin the step-touch, step-touch toward your groom.  Don’t.  Look at Andrew, only him, all the way down the aisle.

    

You got engaged on my fourth wedding anniversary.  If it was my fortieth, I might feel qualified to give you advice on what comes after the wedding day, because of course, that’s what really matters.  You two are lucky enough that you can ask either of your sets of parents for that type of advice.  All I’ll tell you is this – I love being married.  I think you will, too.  And on days that you don’t, pretend you do, til you do again.

I love you, and you love him, so now I love him, too.

Congratulations, baby sister.