Danny asked Julie to marry him on March 8, 2012 at their home in Glen Allen. The two had been shopping all evening and had just returned home. The back yard had recently been reseeded, so Julie took their dog, Olive, out front to go potty. While she was standing with Olive in the front yard, Danny, who had layered a suit jacket over his existing (shopping) outfit, came out and bent down on one knee, in the mud! Using his grandmother's beautiful diamond ring, he asked Julie to be his wife. She said yes, and despite her lack of tears, it was one of her best days yet.
My thoughtful fiancé made every effort to grow grass that year. The muddy front yard and leashed puppy potty time was an easy trade-off to make in exchange for a lush backyard space--and it looked great, until the Virginia summer heat got a hold of it. The jacket over top of Danny's clothes made the story pretty funny. The fact that he used his grandmother's beautiful engagement ring made it even better. What an honor! As is the case with so many newly engaged American women, the wedding planning began pretty quickly thereafter--that week, in fact. First thing, I sent a text message photo of my newly bejeweled ring finger. After that, it was all a blur...
Cards, wedding magazines and blogs posts, and personal advice began to flood my senses. I was in wedding overload before I knew it. Even though we enjoyed the beautiful pictures and inspirational ideas, we were both pretty disinterested in all of the commercialism wrapped up in the wedding planning industry. We were determined to keep the whole occasion pretty low-key. We considered an outdoor park space with a lake and pavilion pretty seriously for a while, checked out some local vineyards, and finally decided on a gorgeous, modern community space.
When we initially visited, the cultural arts center had a large statue out front. I know the replica of Virginia Beach's Neptune wasn't the only reason I was drawn to the space, but it was a major contributor.
Oh, Neptune!
It had a covered outdoor sculpture garden. In line with our low-key plan, the space offered an outdoor setting, with a shade-supplying rain covering. We were excited to (finally!) find a perfect spot to get married. Soon we found a fabulous caterer, a work-friend DJ, and music we planned to use during the ceremony. Pinterest inspired my days; I made pillows for the outdoor bench areas and study hall students helped create paper roses from my favorite book pages.
In December, however, when the school board had already made it quite clear what was in store for the following year for my district (nothing good!), Danny and I began to discuss the possibility of me returning to school for another degree. Classics had been an interest since high school. In my undergrad, I took every class I could concerning Classical literature, history, and art. I took a Latin summer program within the first few months of our relationship. I even had begun to learn German just in case I needed it for grad school. It was clear that pursuing Classics would have to be a jump in with both feet type of situation.
I applied in January. Danny helped me work on my admittance essays and encouraged me through the process. We weren't yet married, but we were ready to think like a team. With the decision for me to quit my (pretty decent paying) job, we developed a budget to follow. It wasn't until February, when I already had my Greek-goddess-inspired wedding dress and cute white summer sandals and we were scheduled to check in with the caterer, that we considered cancelling the wedding.
Our priorities had shifted. Significantly. When we got engaged, not an ounce of my being considered that I might leave my job. Now, with the real possibility of returning to university, the wedding became almost an inconvenience. I no longer wanted to make decisions regarding anything. The details, which had been so fun for so long, were now tedious and draining. I truly knew I was over the wedding when I spoke to my mom about the caterer meeting I was scheduled to attend that afternoon. She recognized my disinterest. I got off the phone with her and immediately cancelled the appointment. The Save the Dates had just gone out, so it was tough, but we told our friends and family that the wedding would no longer proceed as originally planned.
The following week, we went to the county complex to obtain a marriage license. I wasn't terribly surprised that the metal detector workers hit on my handsome soon-to-be husband--just a little surprised that it happened right in front of me. I felt sick that day, so I wasn't looking too cute, and apparently so out of sorts that it didn't even appear that we were there together.
"Oooh, you're getting a marriage license? You've gotta bring your girl in then."
"I did." (He points at me in glasses and a forrest green work-supplied fleece, no shower, and a messy top-of-the-head bun.)
"Oh... ok, well, it's upstairs and to the right." (Glaring at me and my fleece.)
