Marriage Is A Dream?

I just woke up from a dream. I dreamt that I was getting married. The guests were already gathered and seated in the pews of the warehouse/studio style church room somewhere in downtown New York; my guests to my left, my groom's guests to my right. It was a winter wedding as we'd already had our pictures taken outside with the snow falling around us before we headed off to Montreal for the second reception--his or mine, I don't know. The minister signalled that we were ready to begin and so I knelt down at the back of the room so that my little flowergirl dressed in pink could help me bring my veil over my head to cover my face before I began my walk down the aisle, accompanied by my eighty-four going on eighty-five year old father. As a last item before my flowing procession started, the minister asked the audience if anyone had a story to share about being stood up on their wedding day, and everyone's hand went up.

What began as my own beautiful wedding ceremony, turned into a pseudo-"I was left at the altar" support group. It seemed that everyone had experienced being jilted at the altar at least once, if not more. There were so many stories to be heard that my poor father had to take a seat after standing so long. One man's fiancée apparently left him because she couldn't tell whether he had had his teeth bleached, of whether they were actually that white. The minister himself had been left twice at the altar and took the time to address each case in their turn.

So what ever became of the glowing bride and her wedding party? My flowergirl had left to frolick amongst the pews, and my dear old father fell asleep in his seat, his chin resting on his hands which were neatly folded over the handle of his cane. And I, I patiently stood at my end of the red carpet which had been specially laid down for me to walk upon that day, waiting to walk down that aisle to exchange vows with my never-identified groom. And yet as I waited and listened to story after story of hearts being broken, I never stopped being the happy, glowing bride, thrilled at the fact that I was getting so much use out of my dress and veil. It was my wedding day and nothing (short of being left at the altar) was going to ruin it for me.