As the saying goes, best laid plans often go awry. On the Sunday before my wedding one of the priests asked us to remember the pastor in our prayers while he traveled on a vacation that week when I knew that he was supposed to be in town to officiate our wedding. Then the reverend urged us all to attend the First Friday mass scheduled at the same time in the same church as my wedding. I drifted between the idea of passing out or becoming hysterical as I realized that somehow, someone had forgotten about our supposedly scheduled wedding. It took every bit of resolve that I had not to dissolve in tears right then and there. 

On the way home I ranted liked a banshee while my mother attempted to remain calm, urging me to wait until I got more information before coming unglued. My only thought was to immediately call the rectory to find out how something so disastrous had happened. I practically ran into the house before Mama had even put the car in park. I tore through the phone book searching for the number and dialed with my hands shaking and my heart racing. One of the priests answered the phone and suggested that I call the following day to speak with the secretary who would be back in the office. Not to be trifled with, I demanded an immediate explanation for the mixup, so the poor man agreed to look at the master calendar of events to determine how my wedding date might have been overlooked. 

The now irritated priest put me on hold while I became more and more agitated as the minutes passed. He finally returned and admitted that there was no indication anywhere that Mike and I had reserved the church on any date, nor did the pastor note that he had agreed to preside over the wedding. His words, “I don’t know what to do.” trailed off while I felt myself falling into an abyss. 

My next call was to Mike and I was barely able to speak through my sobs. He tried to calm me but I was not ready to surrender my anger, so he finally suggested that he would attempt to resolve the situation. I hung up having little faith that he or anyone else would be able to do anything. After all of our careful planning we seemed to be facing a nightmare. 

A few hours later Mike called again. His mother had contacted the priest for whom she worked at Assumption Catholic Church to ask for his advice. He had immediately contacted the powers that be at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. He learned that the pastor who had agreed to officiate at our wedding had indeed neglected to record any of the information, and so over time our wedding was forgotten. Nonetheless, we would still be able to use the church at the appointed time with a few additional “guests” who would come for the First Friday mass. He would be the person presiding over our vows and one of the priests at Mt. Carmel would assist him. All was well. The wedding would still happen at the appointed time and in some ways it had become more meaningful because Father John Perusina, who would be the official witness to our vows, had long before baptized both me and Mike. It seemed fitting that he would be person joining us in matrimony.

Mama and I worked all that week at Eliot Elementary, even on Friday. After school we rushed to the beauty salon to have our hair coiffed then hurried home to put the final touches on our faces. Mama set out the tuxedos for my brothers Michael and Pat and placed my wedding dress and veil in the car. Just before the appointed time she revealed the concerns that she had concealed up to that time. She was worried that I had hurried into a commitment that I was not yet ready to make. She assured me that if I had any misgivings it would be okay to back out even at the late date. She said that she would go to the church and tell people that I had changed my mind and nobody would think any less of me. I simply smiled and told her that I had never before in my life felt so sure about what I wanted to do. That was all she needed to hear and we were off to the church. 

I found my bridesmaids waiting for me. We all donned our dresses in the bridal room with the assistance of the photographers’ wife. I went into a kind of surreal fog, an out of body feeling that I was floating above the reality of all that was happening. Soon we were lining up for the processional into the church. My brother, Michael, would give me away. He looked so grown up and serious in his tuxedo as we linked our arms. I thought of all that our family had endured and how wonderfully we had survived. I felt incredibly blessed.

Soon the music began to play. Mrs McKenna, Susan’s mother, sang with her beautiful voice that I had grown to love. One by one Susan, Nancy and Ingrid walked down the long isle while Mike stood looking so handsome and strong. Finally with the flourish of a trumpet Michael and I slowly coursed through the center of the church while our guests turned to smile at us as we passed. Mama was sitting in the front with Grandpa Little by her side. Mike’s parents, Mary and Julio, were on the other side of the aisle. Father Perusina was flanked by three priests, who hearing of the confusion over our wedding plans had insisted that they also celebrate our nuptials. The flowers were magnificent. Everything had fallen beautifully into place, but best of all there was Mike who would forevermore be my best friend and my rock. 

The priest who delivered the homily spoke of the uncertainties of the world, particularly in nineteen sixty eight, a year that would be remembered for great upheaval. He mentioned how faith and goodness would guide us through other times of turmoil. He talked of the power of our love to change the world. It was a beautiful lesson for all of us and I would always remember his words of encouragement. Then we made our vows to love, honor and cherish each other all of the days of our lives. We performed the sacrament of matrimony just as both of us had been taught in our Catholic School upbringing. I knew before God and humans that our union was meant to be. 

As we left the church everyone was smiling. Some of the people who had come for the First Friday mass exclaimed that it was a beautiful idea to schedule a wedding for the occasion. The church had been almost full with both guests and parishioners. The extravagance of priests on the altar had made the event feel even more significant. I felt a happiness that had been missing from heart since the day my father had died. The outpouring of love had shown me once again that our family had never been alone and then there was Mike and we were one.