Tunesday : When I Fall in Love

When I Fall in Love

(Heyman, E / Young, V) Performed by Nat King Cole

When I fall in love, it will be forever
Or I'll never fall in love
In a restless world like this is
Love is ended before it's begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

When I give my heart, it will be completely
Or I'll never give my heart
And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you

And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you

So we arrive in my timeline at my wedding day, and like all wedding days, mine was like everyone else's in its stresses and emotions and ultimate relief; and just like everyone else's, it was thoroughly unique. As I have mentioned before, Dave and I planned our wedding at a distance - living in Edmonton at the time and intending to get married 3300 km away in London - and while, on the one hand, we refused to get stressed about all the details that were beyond our control, on the other, we didn't know a lot about weddings and had no idea how many things could go wrong. In the end, it was a perfect day.

We arrived in Ontario a week or so early, and one of the first things I did was go with Rudy to pick up the bridesmaids dresses. She tried hers on - Delight wasn't in Ontario yet, but I wasn't very concerned about her - and once those dresses were sorted, I reminded the saleswoman that they were meant to rent me a crinoline for under my own dress (it was one thing to bring my dress on an airplane, there was no reason for me to have bought and brought along a crinoline as well). She had no record of this arrangement and regretted to inform me that they had none available for my date. I had never even tried on my dress without a crinoline - having only worn it twice: at the bridal shop and the alternations shop - but I was going to need to go commando, so cheerfully resigned myself to it. (This didn't turn out to be a terrible look, and who knows if I would have eventually regretted it if my dress had been too poufy. It somehow never occurred to me to call around to other stores. I simply refused to worry about anything.)

We rehearsed my hair at Rudy's favourite salon and I let the stylist convince me to keep my hair down (perfect choice even if, at the time, I thought an updo would be more bridal). When Delight arrived we went shoe shopping for my girls, and even though I wasn't fussy about what they picked, both of them thought they'd get the most future use out of bone-coloured pumps. We met with the DJ (for the first time), and as Dave wanted to pick the song for our first dance, this was when I learned that he had decided upon When I Fall in Love: a song that had zero personal meaning for us. There had recently been the after-death duet between Nat King Cole and his daughter Natalie - so that might have been why it was on Dave's radar - but Dave wanted the original version, and since that was the only decision (other than the style of tux) that Dave offered to make, I grinned and beared it. The DJ also asked what song I wanted for my dance with my father, and I hadn't thought about that at all. He had a few suggestions and I settled on James Taylor's How Sweet It Is - Dad used to use that expression all the time (a la Jackie Gleason), so it seemed appropriate. We learned at some point during this week that the Ramada Hotel we had booked for our reception had gone into receivership, and although they were honouring our booking, the kitchen was no longer open and our food would need to be shipped in from a different Ramada. Things weren't going to be perfect, but we refused. To sweat. The details.

At some point during the week, my future inlaws asked what we were giving as wedding favours, and Dave and I looked at each other blankly: we didn't know anything about that custom and hadn't given it any thought. Happily, the inlaws had: Dave's Dad said that if we had someone take our picture coming out of the church, the owner of the One Hour Photo beside his barber shop was willing to temporarily close his store (on a Saturday afternoon) to develop the film, select the best photo, and print off enough copies to have waiting at the wedding reception. Dave's Mom said that there was a box of old stock cardboard picture frames in the storeroom of the Woolco where she worked that her manager said she could have for next to nothing, and these would display the pictures nicely at the guests' place settings. In the days before digital photos and personal printers, this seemed like a type of magic, and we were very grateful for the idea and the efforts of everyone who would make it happen.

My parents drove up for the rehearsal (and hosted the dinner afterwards at The Seven Dwarfs Restaurant; the same place where my inlaws had their wedding reception twenty-eight years earlier), and all went well at the church until the priest (who had married my inlaws twenty-eight years earlier) asked us what arrangements we had made for music at the ceremony. Dave and I looked at each other blankly and reminded Father Williams that he had told us the year before that there was an organist who always provided the wedding music for his ceremonies. He informed us that we should have confirmed that we wanted her at some point: she was currently on vacation and unavailable. Just before we panicked, though, he said that he could ask the man who was providing music for the church's masses while the organist was away - just a guy with his guitar - and we were happy to jump at any option. Not gonna sweat the details.

The night before our wedding, Dave went out for a dinner with his friends and family (this was the closest he got to a bachelor party, and I believe it just involved steak and scotch), and while his Dad eventually came home, Dave stayed the night at his friend Denton's house. Meanwhile, my girls and I were gluing on fake nails and painting them up while drinking wine coolers; while Delight told dirty jokes to embarrass me in front of my nearly mother-in-law. 

Finally: the wedding day. We woke up early enough to get to the salon, and my girls and I all had our hair pulled back in a half up/down style. When we got back to the house, Anthony was there - Dave's best man and a professional makeup artist (who had worked on everything from pageants to haunted houses) - and he did up some glam makeup for me. The flowers were delivered, and they were exactly as I had wanted. Dave's Mom gave me a gold pin that had belonged to her mother, hoping I would wear it as my "something old", and I fastened it beneath my dress. The photographer arrived and started taking posed and candid (also posed, lol) pictures of me, and finally, my parents arrived and got into some of the pictures. Soon enough people started leaving for the church, and last of all, me and my parents left in a slight drizzle; which stopped as soon as we got to the church.

When we entered - greeted by my two brothers who were acting as the ushers - I couldn't believe my ears: the "guy with a guitar" was playing one of my favourite hymns from the folk masses I used to attend with Cora when I was a kid (incidentally, Cora and her husband were in attendance; the last time I saw her), and I immediately realised that if I had given thought to and actually chosen the perfect music for my wedding day, this would have been it; all of his song choices were my favourite old folk hymns. Perfect. I had both of my parents walk me down the aisle - which felt like a repudiation of any patriarchal notion that my father was giving me away; I thought of it more as a public display of solidarity - and not much after that was of note. Delight's daughter Cara - the spitfire flower girl whose behaviour couldn't have been predicted - was sweet and well-behaved. Delight's boyfriend Dennis - who we had asked to do a reading just to give him a role - was unpredictably nervous and shaky and stumbling over everything. It was incredibly hot in the small church (made uncomfortably humid by the now pouring rain outside) and Father Williams quipped that they were installing air conditioning the following week (true fact). I beamed through everything; holding Dave's hands and exchanging rings; my nervous voice barely audible as I said my vows. Before we knew it the ceremony was all over, and as we charged down the aisle afterwards in a glare of popping flash bulbs, my Aunt Carlene tried to mouth, "Slow down", but the relief was too great for me to make a slow display of exiting; we tore for the doorway, barely remembering in time to seek out Jeff and his camera: the guy (Julia's husband from a short-lived marriage) who was to take our picture for the guest favours. Incredibly, the rain was finished for the day.

We stood around for a little while, receiving congratulations and best wishes (I believe it was at this time that my Uncle Dennis - always an inappropriate pig - said, "You look pretty good but it's too bad you don't have the tits to hold that dress up"; who talks like that?) and then took off to Springbank Park for photos. As I said before, Dave had had a vision of getting married in June so we could have pictures at the rose gardens, but I guess no one ever told him that the roses aren't really in bloom until later in the summer, and that those areas need to be reserved in advance; no matter, the spot our photographer found was lush and green and beautiful; particularly so post-rain.

We eventually made it to the Ramada and after we had some posed pictures cutting the behemoth of a wedding cake my Mum designed, someone said that we should form a receiving line outside the reception room, so we did as we were told; chatting and grinning and receiving hands and hugs. My Grammie made her way down the line and we later told my Dad that Dave was worried that she would press her four-footed cane into the top of his mangled foot (*description of the foot-mangling-event was recounted last week), and ever after, Dad has liked to talk as though Grammie actually had put her cane and her full (not unsubstantial) weight onto Dave's recent injury. As everyone entered the reception room and found their framed photo of the moment they had witnessed just a scant hour earlier, they responded with delight; it was a lovely picture and our guests were in awe of the effort. 

I had asked my Mum if she could get her Dad, my Pop, to say grace before dinner, and while he wanted to, he just couldn't get up the nerve in front of the crowd, so my creepy Uncle Dennis (proper Knight of Columbus after all) offered to fill in. Dinner was served and we needn't have worried about the hotel being in receivership: the food was all hot and delicious; many guests saying that it was the best wedding food they had ever tasted. Dave's friend Burqhardt served as the MC and he's a great speaker - he kept everything moving along with interesting and funny stories. My brother Ken gave a nervous toast to me, someone must have toasted the bridesmaids. My Dad gave a brief speech welcoming Dave into the family and Dave's Dad gave a long and rambling and emotional speech welcoming me. I'm sure the guests tinkled their glasses to get us to kiss, but none of that stands out in my memory.

After dinner we danced our dance to this curious song choice - Dave barely able to shuffle around, wearing Denton's larger dress shoes, unlaced (*see the foot-mangling-event as recounted last week) - and then I danced with my Dad for the first and only time in my life, to a curious song choice, and then the party really started. The music was all good, Dave and I walked around and tried to talk with everyone. We danced and drank and the open bar was flowing all night. I tossed my bouquet (I think Dave's cousin Shannon caught it?) and Dave tossed my blue garter (maybe to Anthony?); we served the cake at midnight or whatever, doing our best to observe all the kitschy traditional-type stuff that we didn't really know that much about. Guests trickled out - even my own family had an hour drive to get back home and didn't stay 'til the end - and finally my inlaws took all the presents out with the aid of a bellboy cart, and Dave and I went and collapsed in the Honeymoon Suite. A perfect day.

There was a feeling of fate about our wedding day: as noted, we were married by the same priest who had married my inlaws, and the year we got married (1991) was the same year that my parents had celebrated their twenty-fifth anniversary; the same year my mother's parents celebrated their fiftieth. Not wanting to sweat the details may have been a naive (and potentially disastrous) mindset, but in the end, the things that might have been the biggest upsets - the music at the church, the missing guest favours, the hotel going into receivership and needing to cater in the food - turned out to be everyone's favourite parts. Dave just being able to walk and stand and shuffle after his accident was a blessing. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect day.

And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too

Is when I fall in love with you