Becoming Left-Handed

Friend Of A Friend

Every bride has certain moments that stick in her mind in blazing Technicolor.

Some of mine have nothing to do with Steve, but everything to do with you, our families and friends.

For example, at one point I watched Sally Lange Witkowski (wine tour game organizer, married to the guy wearing Steve's face, Electric Slider Extraordinaire) pull Jodie Silver (chiropractor, mother of 2, married to Steve's cousin Mike) onto the dance floor and I realized, our friends made friends with our friends!

Of course, we knew you would. We like you. You like us. How could you help but like each other?

In the one month (can you believe it's been one month?!) since the wedding, we've had our siblings emailing one another, our friend B! driving in from Washington D.C. to attend a party in Columbus thrown by our friends Stephanie and Brandon, and numerous other connections being made between (among?) all of you.

We really appreciated everyone who came in early for the Wine Tour, because that seems to be how so many people got to know so many people so fast.  Of course, you take 50 strangers and put them on a bus with enough wine, and magic is bound to happen!

This seems to be one of the happiest side effects of the wedding so far.  Stay tuned as we discover more!

Woodn't You Know It...

We woke up this morning and I found myself squealing, "It's leave-for-the-wedding day!" Honestly it felt like Christmas morning.

Steve and I walked to the plaza near our house for a last-minute trip to Staples. Then we allowed ourselves about 45 minutes sipping coffee outside at a nearby coffee shop before walking back home. Again the temperatures defied the calendar - we were sweating in 87-degree air.

The day flew by. We did the last round of everything. And then we did the final things. And then we finished the last-minute things. And then we STILL had things to do! I have re-written my list 3 times in 2 weeks onto clean sheets of paper (mostly because I kept adding things faster than I was crossing them off).

We packed. And we packed. And we joked that we are practically moving to NY. And still we packed. And then we started the checking of the packing. I walked back into my closet twice and added clothes to Steve's suitcase, which still had room. I checked my list, checked the bathroom, checked the closet, checked my jewelry box, and checked my list.

Throughout the day, my groom was patiently and persistently stopping every 5 minutes to burn and print another CD favor. He has been painstaking about the entire process and I love and admire him for it.

We left at 6 p.m. and made one more last-minute stop at a mall north of Columbus. We found out our errand would require us waiting an hour on our merchandise, so we enjoyed a relaxing dinner and a little window shopping before we got on the road for my mom's.

Arriving here at 9:30, it started to feel like this Wedding Week is officially underway. And we weren't here 10 minutes before we got a wonderful, beautiful wedding gift surprise from Mom and DougH! We walked into their gazebo to find a huge pile, covered with a blanket, with our recent nicknames for each other (Gride and Broom) on it.

What was under the blanket? Indulge me for a moment while I tell you the back story.

My grandfather, a finish carpenter and gifted tradesman, had somewhat specialized in his lifetime at building Adirondack chairs (or, as we like to call them, Out-Around-Back chairs). When he died, our family had 6 - my mom has 2, my uncle has 2 and my little sister gave a good home to the remaining set from Grandpa's garage.

When Mom was cleaning out Grandpa's paperwork, she found a Bill of Materials for Grandpa's Adirondack chairs, so she had a set of chairs specially made for Steve and me by her cousin, Keith, a skilled carpenter in his own right. They are redwood, and boy are they handsome!

Mom said it was like that paperwork was planted for her to find. And when we sat in the chairs, it really felt like we were getting a hug and some wedding congratulations straight from Grandpa himself. I can't think of a more fitting or meaningful gift from our family.

With A Little Help From Our Friends

One of the delights of our wedding day will be looking around at the family and friends who are sharing our day and our joy.

In the meantime, we are having the humbling and thrilling experience of sharing the planning and preparations with a few wonderful friends who have given so freely of their talents, their passions, and their ideas.

I don't want to give anything away, but our wedding invitations are perhaps the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.  Our designer, our friend and fellow newlywed Barce, took his love for design, and our love for each other, mixed in our delicious fall colors, and created truly inviting invitations.  That sounds redundant, but it's not.  I've seen plenty of invitations that were not really that inviting.  Barce gave us warmth and character and something that is truly unique and "ours."  I'm not sure how I'm going to survive the next several weeks while we print and assemble and stamp and mail, because I'm so excited to send our invitations to everyone.

Our friend Craig has also thrown his hat into our wedding ring (pardon the pun) by agreeing to travel from Ohio to be our videographer.  Craig did my sister and brother-in-law's wedding video 2 years ago, and it's hands-down my favorite wedding video ever.  We are so excited that Craig will be in New York with us, capturing our memories for us to keep forever!

Our friends Sally and Josh, in Miami, FL, may not know it yet, but they'll be helping us with a very important part of the pre-wedding party process on Friday of our wedding weekend.  We are so sure they'll say yes, we haven't even asked them yet!

And then there are our friends who've been so supportive these last several weeks.  I don't know what I would have done without the advice and good cheer from Kathryn, Jamie, Stephanie, Suzy, Alison, Amy and my sister Rachel.  I know Steve's also getting good advice from his friends and it's helping us along.  I think the wedding planning has been harder than we thought, but I'd happily do it all over again for the chance to grow closer to these friends and share our happiness with them.

Thank you, to all of you. 

Creating Space

Over the weekend, Steve and I went to Hartville with Rachel and Doug to sort through Grandpa's things with our family.  We rented a U-Haul and we brought back a lot of furniture and many boxes of heirlooms, keepsakes, and sentimental pieces.

Where are we going to put it all?  We have to create space in our homes so it will fit.

I didn't feel sad.  I hate to say this, but I don't feel sad.  I don't feel anything.  I don't think I've allowed it to sink in that my beloved Grandpa is gone, even after I watched his house be emptied of its contents.  I felt empty too, but that hollow feeling is all I've felt since the funeral.  Tears would be better than this!

I think I need to create space in more than just the house - I need to create space in my life so I can feel my loss.  I need to give my grief a little space and room to breathe.  I think if I honored my grief with a time, or place, or ritual, then it would wash over me and the tears would finally jolt me from my hollow denial. 

We are so busy with the wedding, and I am so busy and stressed out at work, that I've kept moving fast, and hoped the grief wouldn't catch up.  Now I realize I need to slow down or stop and wait for it to reach over my shoulder.  I need to welcome it and stop running. 

History of A Heart

When Grandpa died, I got his little black book. Not that kind of little black book. His journal from our trip to England. In 1999, Grandpa wrote about our trip and the resulting exchange with Bill Gibson, the solicitor who helped him find his relatives. After about 20 pages, the book gives way to Grandpa’s medical log of date, time, blood pressure and pulse. Reading those numbers is like reading a stone tablet of recorded miracles. There were days – five or six years ago or more – when Grandpa’s heart rate or blood pressure were so low it’s amazing he lived. I mean like 45 beats a minute on that old heart, or a blood pressure reading of 80/50. But what’s interesting is that book also tells the story of what was important to that old heart. Grandpa’s notes from our trip spoke of architecture and craftsmanship. He noticed the fine details about the Crown Jewels – details that completely slipped my mind. Like the fact that the Coronation Bowl holds 144 bottles of wine and is made of pure gold. =) Grandpa also noticed things about our trip - like his delay at security on our departure from the U.S., or the names of our B&B hosts along the way - that I didn't even notice. What a gift to see the world through each others' eyes that week in 1999. And what a gift we had so many unexpected, undeserved years with the man who had such a miraculous heart. One that could hold oodles and oodles of love and was made of pure gold.

Our Journey in Pictures

Bear with me while I get the hang of this new computer/new camera combination.  Here are some shots from our trip to Niagara Falls ...

   

The drive up Route 5 into Dunkirk ...

More from Niagara ...

Journey, Pt. 2

We got to Niagara Falls in time to see both waterfalls in the late afternoon light - many more images available here.  It's beyond words.  Steve is absolutely fascinated by the Falls - I think he could have cheerfully stayed there for a week exploring.  We found dinner at a wonderful steakhouse, where we somehow scored the best table overlooking Horseshoe Falls.  We reminisced about Grandpa and talked about Heaven while we drank Canadian wine and feasted our eyes on that gorgeous Canadian view of the water.

Our hotel Thursday night was literally overlooking the mad rush of water crashing toward and over American Falls.  We got up Friday morning and walked all along the American side of the Falls - over Goat Island, around Bridal Veil Falls (my personal favorite), all the way down past Top of the Falls Restaurant and almost close enough to touch Horseshoe Falls.  Then we crossed back into Canada and walked the entire stretch again, this time stopping at the Secret Gardens and admiring the view across the Falls.  We took the Journey Behind the Falls tour, where we got to walk behind the thunder of Horseshoe Falls - 675,000 gallons a minute pouring past the opening.  (Again, crazy fun pics to share here - I will get them on here!)

Yesterday we had 5 wedding appointments in 6 hours and across 2 different towns.  It was an absolutely insane schedule, I don't know what I was thinking.  We didn't have time to stop for lunch or bathroom breaks all day, and I'm fairly certain I broke every speed limit in Upstate New York.  The first meeting was with a florist we're considering and she has quite a large greenhouse that simply sparkled in the warm spring sunshine.  It's their first nice weather up here, so the plants were just soaking it up.  It was hard to be there, surrounded by flowers, without choking up to think of Grandpa.  Especially when she asked if we'll have any grandparents at our ceremony.  Oh, he'll be there, I know he will.  Maybe it was my fragile emotional state that led me to request an estimate for flowers I know we can't afford - an arrangement for the ladies' room?  Garlands for the little girls' hair?  Huge floral ceterpieces?  All of it fresh flowers when I really want dried leaves and grapes and grapevine to give that rustic feel?  I don't know what happened but I lost my head and I can only imagine how huge the estimate will be. 

We met with a videographer at the recommendation of our photographer.  We had corresponded with him over email and had a huge misunderstanding and decided not to work with him, but scheduled this meeting as a "second chance" to see if we'd mis-judged him.  It turns out our instincts over email were correct, so we knew we needed to keep looking.

Next we saw another florist.   This time I know the estimate would be lower but I also know the flowers would be all wrong.  I want really unique bouquets and I felt like I wasn't doing a very good job of asking for what I wanted.

By our third floral meeting, I finally felt like I got my requests out.  The florist was kind, curious, and led me through a maze of descriptions and pictures until my vision started to take shape.  I was tense in the meeting, worried for a while about why it was so confusing, but then I started to feel much better when I realized I was in the hands of a professional who could draw out my wishes and start to see my ideas.  In fact, Carol was the only one who actually took my grape bouquet idea seriously enough to grab some nearby silk grapes and start playing around with texture and shape for my bouquet.  I think we found our florist! 

Last stop yesterday was our beloved Heron Hill.  Every time we go there I feel reassured that we are doing the right thing and having the right wedding for us - it gets hard to remember that in the face of criticism, sarcasm and general brattiness on the part of family members who think we're wine snobs.  They obviously don't know us, or know how humble and down-to-earth New York wineries really are.  (There, can you tell that's been bothering me?)

 

Journey, Pt. 1

Today is Sunday and I am sitting at a wide-open window, looking out at a Finger Lakes spring monring.  It's the end of a difficult, beautiful, heart-wrenching week.  Actually I guess it's the beginning of a new week.  That's the beauty of Sundays.

Grandpa's funeral was Tuesday morning.  The minister read my blog entry (below) about Grandpa going to Heaven to garden for God.  It was a very special moment to be part of the memory service for my sweet little Grandpa, and I was honored to have my words used to commemorate his life and his passion for all things green and growing.

The weather this week has been absolutely breath-takingly gorgeous.  Spring is in the air, and it seems so right that Grandpa had to be called to Heaven when God needed help with the gardens!  I hope they are having a good time up there.  We miss Grandpa here - I think we're only just beginning to realize how much.

Wednesday was the day we were supposed to go back to Columbus so I could go to work Thursday.  Sometime Wednesday afternoon as I weeded my mom's flower beds and listened to the frogs sing in her pond, I realized I couldn't do it.  Couldn't face Resource, or my friendly co-workers offering condolences, or deal with a single client request.   I needed some healing time.

Steve and I had planned a trip to NY this weekend to make wedding plans.  We decided to keep the planning appointments and start our trip early (and to save ourselves 8 hours of back-tracking between Akron and Columbus and NY).  We left Thursday morning and meandered our way up to Niagara Falls.

We've been meaning to "stop" at Niagara Falls every time we come here.  We've also been meaning to take more time on these trips and get off the highways, see more countryside, and relax a little more.  This time we did it.

We got off I-90 and took old Route 5 along Lake Erie in the upperwest corner of NY.  We stopped at Dunkirk Lighthouse and shot some photos with our new camera - as soon as I figure out how to the the photos into this computer, I'll add some images to this blog post!

God's Gardener

My grandfather told me last weekend that when he gets to Heaven, he is going to tell God he wants to be in charge of the flower gardens.

As of this morning, God has a new gardener.

If you knew my grandfather, you would not be surprised at his desire to garden in Heaven - he has always had the greenest thumb of anyone I ever knew. Also, you would not be surprised to hear him say he would "tell God" what he wanted to do in Heaven. Grandpa has had a personal conversation with God going on for over 50 years. His faith was unshakeable. These things go together in my mind, because I'd say nine-tenths of gardening is faith.

This very moment, there are tomato plants sitting in Grandpa's basement. These are remarkable plants because Grandpa grew them from the seeds of a cherry tomato in his salad at a restaurant a while back. He laid the seeds aside, took them home wrapped in a dinner napkin, and now his plants are 8" high.

Those are not just plants he left behind. They are symbols of his legacy - his legacy of faith, trust in the seasons, tender loving care, and the unfailing belief that God knows best.

In 1999, Grandpa and I traveled to England, Scotland, and Wales together on a trip to celebrate is 85th birthday and my college graduation. Many memories stand out from that trip, but the one I keep remembering today is the way Grandpa handled the very difficult realization that the relatives we went there to find in Barnesley were not there. I was worried how he'd take it, after an hour of combing through the phone book and speaking to many people named Wales, Whals, and Wahls. I watched Grandpa like a hawk that day, afraid of what the disappointment would do to his faith. He had been so sure God would guide us to find our ancestors and relatives. And it simply didn't happen.

But Grandpa handled it with peace. He enjoyed talking to the few people we did meet. He led us to attend church the next day and we met a wonderful solicitor who agreed to take on our quest. A few months later, a distant cousin of Grandpa's traveled from England to attend a family reunion in Ohio.

Grandpa and I never talked about that day - but I think I know what he would have said. He would have said that God answers prayers in his own time. He would have said that you can't hurry the Heavens, no matter how urgent your requests on Earth. He would have said he knew all along God would lead him to find his family. He would have said that our trip was a success no matter what. And he would have said that God, as always, knew best.

God is lucky to have such a faithful, patient gardener. We were lucky to know him while he was here with us on Earth.

Ervin L. Wales September 22, 1914 - April 28, 2007

Wine Not?

There are so many wineries in the Finger Lakes - almost 100 in all.  Steve and I have dreamed from day one about a wine tour the day before our wedding ceremony so we can literally play host and hostess to this fabulous region. 

Well, the wine tour planning has shifted into high gear this week.  The possibilities are endless, and I started off the week a very overwhelmed and sleepless bride.  But then my event planning background kicked in and I realized we can absolutely handle this.  We're brainstorming ways we can make the wine tour fun, engaging, and worth photographing (our photographer is coming along!) while keeping it simple and not stressful.  The first step is to bring champagne!

We debated which wine trail to travel that day and I think we've concluded we're going to stick to the Keuka Lake Wine Trail.  Not only is Keuka the lake where Heron Hill, our "wedding winery," is located, but it aslo boasts the oldest winery in the Finger Lakes (in the U.S.) at Pleasant Valley Wine Co. 

One of the most famous wineries in the region, Dr. Konstantin Frank's Vinifera Wine Cellars, also overlooks Keuka Lake.  And nestled between these two is Bully Hill, a whimsical winery and museum that offers tours, a gift shop, a restaurant, and a really cool fireplace.

If we can show our guests these 3 wineries, while letting them get to know each other on a fun party-bus ride, then we will have suceeded. 

What's so stressful about that?