After getting engaged in June of 1999 (just one day after our first "date") we had planned on a September 2000 wedding. I wanted an outdoor wedding but didn't want the summer heat we were experiencing in Missouri. So September seemed a good option. I wanted simple and casual, at the point at Thousand Hills State Park. It was going to be so beautiful. But it didn't happen like that. Sometime around August 1999, we decided we might move and try our luck in another city, one that could offer us more. It was become very hard to plan a wedding, not knowning where we were going to be living in a year. So, I talked to my mom and decided to move the wedding up--to January. We had about 4 1/2 months to plan this wedding. But I wasn't worried. We had no money so there wasn't going to be a big fancy shin-dig. I was only inviting my parents and brother, knowing that the rest of the family wouldn't make the 7-10 hour trip from their homes. Patrick had easy access to his family so they were all invited. The plan was for us to be married in Patrick's sister's house on January 7, 2000 and then to have the reception there afterwards. We would just have a meat and cheese tray and a fruit tray for snacks. Then his two sisters got involved and they took over. They kept saying they were going to do this and that. At the time I didn't care. I had just found out I was pregnant in November and all my energy was concentrated on not throwing up. Before I knew it December had swept in and we were just weeks away from the big day. Then tragedy. I called my mom on Christmas evening to see how thier holiday had been. My grandma had died--not the greatest news. So we packed up and drove to Chicago a few days later for the funeral. It was December 30, 1999, just 2 days before the end of the world (new millenium) and just a week from my wedding. We drove home on New Years Eve and much to my disappointment (and exhaustion) the world was still there the next morning and I still had to go to work. Anyway, the night before the wedding my parents (who had just arrived in town) treated us all out to dinner and drinks. We (me, Patrick, his parents, my parents and his two sisters) ate at Ponderosa and then went to Ryan's Sports Bar for drinks. I was the only one not drinking, of course. At around 11 I asked Patrick to take me home. I was so tired. | ![]() Patrick stumbled in around 3am and then passed out on the bed. The next morning I got up (after no sleep due to his snoring) and went to go to Wal-Mart to get a few last minute things. No car. So I started walking. I found our truck still parked outside the bar. I found out later that Patrick almost set his sister's hair on fire and had his keys confiscated. Back home I broke down. Nothing was going the way I wanted. So me and Patrick talked and made some last minute changes. He called his mom and told her we were moving the wedding to her house. It was about 10am and the wedding was at 5pm. But in the end it all worked out. My friend's two daughters (13 and 8)were my maid of honor and flower girl and Patrick's nephew (7) was the best man. My dad walked me across the living room and a reverend we found at the funeral home did the service. Patrick laughed through the whole thing. There was no music, no decorations, no white dress or tuxes--just a simple wedding. Afterwards we went to Julie's and had cake and opened the few gifts we got. By 8 or 9 I was wanting to go home, I was so tired. My parents got us a nice hotel room so we went back there and promptly fell asleep. The next morning we were up early for breakfast with our parents. Then we drove to Kansas City. We watched a movied and ate out then slept until we had to get up for our flight (which was at 7am). Our honeymoon went pretty much the same way. We were so tired the whole time we were in bed by 9 every night. But I don't regret it. We will be celebrating our 9th anniversary in January 2008. It doesn't seem that long, but time sure flies. That baby I had in my tummy at the time (I was 3 months along) just turned eight. My maid of honor is 22 and has a baby of her own now. Her sister, my flower girl, is 17. And the best man will be 17 in January. |
