Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

Two Guys in a Room

I was nervous in the final minutes before my wedding, but not for the usual reasons. I was 22, young, but I had known Deirdre since I was 18 and dated her since I was 20. I had found the right girl, and there didn't seem much point in waiting. Living apart from her was becoming increasingly intolerable.

Regarding the impending promise to spend the rest of my life with Deirdre, I had, if not exactly zeal, then a certain detached peace. I felt as if I had boarded this train a long time ago, and now I was arriving at the inevitable if still somewhat incomprehensible and mysterious destination. What remained was simply to go out there and do it, say the words that would bind me to her. This feeling persisted up to and including the moment I became married. (It sounds a little cold, I know. That's me at momentous occasions. By way of defense, I offer ten years of wedded bliss with, and deepening affection for, a woman I see for a good part of every day.)

Preparations had gone smoothly enough, bringing in family and friends, getting our old college chaplain to preside, finding black three-button tuxes (with a white vest for the groom), securing a gorgeous neo-Gothic church for the wedding and a stately Craftsman house for the reception. I had driven the wine to Kansas City from California (Trader Joe's!), and we had found a caterer within our budget who could give us salmon and flank steak on proper china.

Sponsored
Sponsored

It was cold for May, and spitting rain, so the jazz band would be packed inside instead of out on the big stone porch, but it was okay. I was hoping not to do too much dancing anyway, just enough to satisfy tradition (the dance with Mom) and my new wife.

I was nervous because I needed to compose a prayer to the mother of Our Lord. After the exchange of vows, Deirdre and I would process, she carrying a white candle, over to the side altar dedicated to Our Lady. There, we would kneel and say a prayer, asking her to watch over our marriage, to shield it with her mantle, to...to...what?

It was up to me to decide. I had to write the prayer. I had chosen the readings for Mass as well, but this was the one part of our traditional Catholic wedding ceremony in a traditional Catholic church that was wide open for personal statements. I had no intention of ever doing this again, so this was my one shot at getting it right. And true to form, I had left it until the last minute.

It might not have been so bad, if it hadn't been for Clark. But for Clark, I would have been alone in the little room just off the sanctuary, free to let pressure and the moment squeeze some inspirational juice into my pen. I had done the same thing for the best man's toast at my brother's wedding, and that had come off beautifully, a tribute to our grandparents' marriage and the love that Pappy still bore his wife five years after her death.

But Clark was there. He was the acolyte; he would assist Father during the Mass. He was the block-jawed, fierce-minded friend of Deirdre's brother, someone I had met only once before, the perfect sort of near-stranger to inject himself awkwardly into a moment. I'd had a dose of the same thing a couple of nights earlier at my bachelor party, when one of Deirdre's bridesmaids decided that she and her boyfriend (another near-stranger) would join us. "I've never been to a bachelor party before," she grinned. A total stranger or a friend I could have politely refused. She wasn't quite either, and so I didn't know how to tell her to go away. I'm socially crippled that way.

Clark knew I was working on the prayer, but the excitement of the moment (he was single), or maybe just the proximity of two guys in a small room, or whatever, made him gregarious. He kept starting conversation, and God help me, I kept responding with something besides "Keep it down, willya? I'm writing here." I grew increasingly frazzled. My brain started to freeze up. I had a tension in my stomach that I had not felt since the timed exams I had taken in high school.

But I pulled it off. I seem to remember that Deirdre liked the prayer, and I'm pretty sure Mary didn't mind it. Sometimes, I wonder what became of it. Deirdre thinks she might have it with the poem I wrote to serve as a marriage proposal. (I spoke the proposal as a toast over bourbons, but I gave her a written copy after she said yes.) She says she's got them packed away somewhere. Not that it really matters so much. However meaningful, it was only the beginning. It is so much better now. A photo of Deirdre in her wedding dress is enough.

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

20 Best Online Casinos USA For Real Money (2024 List)

USA Online Casinos: Top 20 Online Casino Sites of 2024

I was nervous in the final minutes before my wedding, but not for the usual reasons. I was 22, young, but I had known Deirdre since I was 18 and dated her since I was 20. I had found the right girl, and there didn't seem much point in waiting. Living apart from her was becoming increasingly intolerable.

Regarding the impending promise to spend the rest of my life with Deirdre, I had, if not exactly zeal, then a certain detached peace. I felt as if I had boarded this train a long time ago, and now I was arriving at the inevitable if still somewhat incomprehensible and mysterious destination. What remained was simply to go out there and do it, say the words that would bind me to her. This feeling persisted up to and including the moment I became married. (It sounds a little cold, I know. That's me at momentous occasions. By way of defense, I offer ten years of wedded bliss with, and deepening affection for, a woman I see for a good part of every day.)

Preparations had gone smoothly enough, bringing in family and friends, getting our old college chaplain to preside, finding black three-button tuxes (with a white vest for the groom), securing a gorgeous neo-Gothic church for the wedding and a stately Craftsman house for the reception. I had driven the wine to Kansas City from California (Trader Joe's!), and we had found a caterer within our budget who could give us salmon and flank steak on proper china.

Sponsored
Sponsored

It was cold for May, and spitting rain, so the jazz band would be packed inside instead of out on the big stone porch, but it was okay. I was hoping not to do too much dancing anyway, just enough to satisfy tradition (the dance with Mom) and my new wife.

I was nervous because I needed to compose a prayer to the mother of Our Lord. After the exchange of vows, Deirdre and I would process, she carrying a white candle, over to the side altar dedicated to Our Lady. There, we would kneel and say a prayer, asking her to watch over our marriage, to shield it with her mantle, to...to...what?

It was up to me to decide. I had to write the prayer. I had chosen the readings for Mass as well, but this was the one part of our traditional Catholic wedding ceremony in a traditional Catholic church that was wide open for personal statements. I had no intention of ever doing this again, so this was my one shot at getting it right. And true to form, I had left it until the last minute.

It might not have been so bad, if it hadn't been for Clark. But for Clark, I would have been alone in the little room just off the sanctuary, free to let pressure and the moment squeeze some inspirational juice into my pen. I had done the same thing for the best man's toast at my brother's wedding, and that had come off beautifully, a tribute to our grandparents' marriage and the love that Pappy still bore his wife five years after her death.

But Clark was there. He was the acolyte; he would assist Father during the Mass. He was the block-jawed, fierce-minded friend of Deirdre's brother, someone I had met only once before, the perfect sort of near-stranger to inject himself awkwardly into a moment. I'd had a dose of the same thing a couple of nights earlier at my bachelor party, when one of Deirdre's bridesmaids decided that she and her boyfriend (another near-stranger) would join us. "I've never been to a bachelor party before," she grinned. A total stranger or a friend I could have politely refused. She wasn't quite either, and so I didn't know how to tell her to go away. I'm socially crippled that way.

Clark knew I was working on the prayer, but the excitement of the moment (he was single), or maybe just the proximity of two guys in a small room, or whatever, made him gregarious. He kept starting conversation, and God help me, I kept responding with something besides "Keep it down, willya? I'm writing here." I grew increasingly frazzled. My brain started to freeze up. I had a tension in my stomach that I had not felt since the timed exams I had taken in high school.

But I pulled it off. I seem to remember that Deirdre liked the prayer, and I'm pretty sure Mary didn't mind it. Sometimes, I wonder what became of it. Deirdre thinks she might have it with the poem I wrote to serve as a marriage proposal. (I spoke the proposal as a toast over bourbons, but I gave her a written copy after she said yes.) She says she's got them packed away somewhere. Not that it really matters so much. However meaningful, it was only the beginning. It is so much better now. A photo of Deirdre in her wedding dress is enough.

Comments
Sponsored
Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

San Diego Reader 2024 Music & Arts Issue

Favorite fakers: Baby Bushka, Fleetwood Max, Electric Waste Band, Oceans, Geezer – plus upcoming tribute schedule
Next Article

Best Sports Betting Sites - 10 Online Sportsbooks Ranked for 2024

Best Sports Betting Sites (2024) - Reviews of TOP Online Sportsbooks
Comments
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it Letters — Our inbox Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Street Style — San Diego streets have style Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves Theater — On stage in San Diego this week Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close

Anchor ads are not supported on this page.