And The Earth Stood Still: July 20, 2007, Part 2

And so on April 21, 2007 my parents and I set out in a Penske Truck (that I was absolutely convinced my dad was going to drive into the side of the jersey barriers somewhere on the highway) and my little Cavailer armed with 3 books on CD for a 2-plus day trek to New York. Erik's parents would meet us there, and fortunately they and some friends of Erik's from home and driven to NY a few weeks prior to drop off the few things Erik had. All we had between us was a couple of bedroom sets and our personal items.

We got all my crap moved up the steepest staircase in history, and explored an area I had been to a grand total of 3 times in my life. On April 26 (I think) we (Pat, Ken and myself) took my parents to the airport in Syracuse where I was later told by my mom that my dad cried and said "It ain't right to leave her here by herself," and my mom said "She'll be just fine..." and I was. It was the bravest thing I'd ever done, and I'm so glad I did.

Ironically, on April 28, I went with Pat and Ken to a memorial service for the grandmother of a friend who had written and told me of her eagerness to visit Oklahoma. I remember Erik called that day, while I sat in a room surrounded by his family and friends and everyone took turns saying hello. We were all *supposed* to be together that day, but for a wedding, not a funeral. The irony that it could have been Erik's funeral was not lost on my and I can't tell you the number of times I thanked God that day that we were saying goodbye to an old woman and not a young man.

Shortly thereafter, I made my way back to New York in Erik's 4-Runner and set about figuring out my life in this new, foreign place. Erik and his commander set me up on a "blind date" with his commanders fiancé who had moved up to NY from VA shortly before the extension, and it was so nice to have a friend. The days passed and I spent time trying to make our tiny apartment, with barely anything in it, into a home, complete with brand new living room furniture (hey, it was a big deal back then!), for Erik to come home to.

Eventually, eventually, eventually, the day came. On June 5, 2007 at something like 2 in the morning -  478 days, SIXTEEN months after he left (stop and think about how long that is, people, that's 1 year and 4 months that he spent away) - Pat, Ken and I welcomed Erik home. That's a post in itself for another time. But it was hands down, the best day of my life. In fact, Erik and I agree that in many ways it was a bigger day than our wedding day because THIS meant our life together was finally starting.



This might be my favorite picture of all time.

After a quick trip to Las Vegas with friends and (the somewhat rude awakening of) learning to live together after never even having lived in the same town, a friend mentioned that he had National Guard training at the end of July and we figured we'd better get down to business planning a wedding. After making some calls and checking people's schedules, we set a date of July 20, 2007 in Westfield, Massachusetts at 1PM in the Stanley Park Rose Garden. It was a Friday, and someone along the way had mentioned that it was presumptions to get married on a Friday, forcing folks to take a day off work. We A) at that point, couldn't have cared less about anything other than actually being married and B) figured if they were going to take a week off to come to glorious Enid, Oklahoma, they'd happily just take a day off to stay in Western Mass. It was also 3 weeks away so we shifted into high gear to get things planned.

After the extension I had talked the bridal store into taking back everything we had bought for the wedding but my wedding dress and veil. So I had bridesmaids, but they didn't have dresses. I had happened to be in a store a few days after we set the date and overheard the saleslady saying she could have bridesmaids dresses in within 3 days. I approached her, told her our story and she told me to come back with everyone's measurements and she'd make it work. I did so, and she called the Jessica McClintock factory where someone went through all the tea-length dresses by hand to find one that matched our specifications, and then they sent them. They wouldn't have been my first choice, but they were perfect, and at a deep discount for all that we'd been through. The owner of the store told me that her husband had narrowly missed the extension himself.

We hired a harpist without ever having heard her play, we ordered flowers by telling the florist a friend had used for her wedding what our budget was and told her to go to town, we paid something crazy like $75 extra to have our invitations super-duper-speedily delivered and then had to chase them all over Watertown when we missed the UPS truck, in an effort to get them out before the weekend (did I mention that at the time the invitations went out we didn't have a reception site?). The cost-cutting measures didn't matter, micromanaging the details, as all brides do, didn't matter. The park would only allow us to have 50 chairs, which wasn't enough, but that didn't matter either. The baker couldn't deliver the cake on Friday because they were so busy baking for Saturday weddings (that had no doubt scheduled sooner). No problem! The dads could go pick it up before the ceremony. It didn't matter that my dad stuck his pinkie in the frosting while they were in the car. In fact, I love it.

Pinkie mark on left of bottom tier.

We had a come and go, cocktail reception. No music - we don't really dance, we were out of time and money and just didn't care. Erik put together a CD that the bistro played over the speaker in the reception hall - God, I wish I had a copy of that - he worked so hard on it. We walked in just in time for Feels Like Home by Chantal Kreviazuk. Look it up and cry your eyes out (because I am, right now). Oh here, I'll save you the effort.

"If you knew how much this moment means to me
And how long I've waited for your touch.
If you knew how happy you are making me
I never thought that I'd love anyone so much.
It feels like home to me"

We were the last ones to leave the reception, and upon leaving had to stop and pay our bill. I remember standing at the bar in my wedding gown, watching Erik sign the credit card slip. Finally. We then headed off to an after party thrown by several of Erik's friends. We couldn't have possibly felt more love on that day.

I truly don't remember all that much about the wedding. It poured all day the day before and the morning of, but that afternoon the sky was beautifully clear. There were about 70 people there, it was pretty toasty outside and a cool breeze blew through right as the pastor was talking about those who couldn't be with us. I'm sure she was talking about our missing family and friends, but at that moment I immediately thought of all those whose lives had been lost during Erik's deployment.

I remember my mom and dad being irked by the fact we were getting married in a park versus a church and the fact that it was going to be officiated by a woman *gasp*, but even they agreed it turned out far better than it ever could have at home. It was perfect, we just had to wait for it. None of the stupid obsessing I had done (that all brides do) mattered, and I remember thinking the morning of that I wasn't excited for the wedding, I was excited to be married. And I really, really was.

We have only spent like 2.5 July 20th's together since that day - I suppose that's par for the course in this lifestyle. Even as I type this (on a Saturday) Erik is at work. Cest la vie - at least he's not deployed.

I thought I knew clearly what I was getting into six years ago - and though in lots of ways ways I did, in many I didn't have a clue. What I do know, though, is that after 3 cancelled wedding dates, making our home in 5 houses in 4 different states (3 states in our first year of marriage!), enduring 2 more deployments, adopting 2 dogs, and creating 1.9 kids: life has been nothing short of the adventure I expected. Thanks for showing me the world, honey! Or at least, the world outside of the only world I knew.

 

My dad wore his cowboy boots.
Pre-extension Sheena would not have gone for this. Post-extension Sheena found it hilariously fitting.



 

There's that amazing sky I told you about

 

 

Right about here my good friend Katie exclaimed "My God, Sheena! Finally!"

Erik's Grandmother Agnes (Kens mom) was the only "extended family" that was able to make the trip on such short notice.
She died about a year later. As an aside, our now two-year-old loves to name everyone in this photo. It's framed in our dining room and has been so well loved lately that the glass broke.

My dress broke, as you can see. Pat fixed it in the bathroom of the reception site. I had never loved it - when I first tried it on I said it looked like something someone would wear to get married in a park, but I was so tired of looking that I just bought it. Prophetic words. Of course, in the end, it too was perfect.