If you’re in your twenties, April, May and June could be combined into one 91-day month and renamed “Wedding Blitz”. If it’s not your own or your friends’ weddings, your friends are giddily departing for bridal-party weekends. There’s hardly any room left for the smug and bubbly “my hubby is the best in the world!” anniversary posts from the girls who had their wedding a few years ago.
As every advice-column reader knows, weddings are ripe territory for everything that is wrong with humanity. The bride senses any disappointment that could tarnish Her Special Day faster than the Hubble Telescope can spot the moon. The wedding party is secretly smoldering about the amount of time and money they were forced to invest in useless satiny get-ups and shoes that will never, ever match any other outfit. And that’s not even counting all the people who aren’t even there, but who are offended because they weren’t invited. Finally, all the happy guests are waiting for the interval after which they may begin to feel resentful for the delayed, insufficient or non-existent thanks that accompanied their wedding gift.
I felt a lot of pressure on this point. I had two bridal showers, one a surprise. The day after the wedding, my husband and I sat down and opened wedding gifts for about two hours straight. I was exhausted before I even began the thank-you notes.
My worst thank-you note moment occurred the first time I used a gorgeous, expensive blender we’d received on our wedding day and it struck me that I didn’t remember thanking anyone for it. I got out my master list of gifts and givers and desperately scanned it. There was no blender on it. I searched the box the blender came in for a note or a tag but came up empty.
Please, please, if the giver of this blender reads my blog, identify yourself and I will dispatch a thank-you note, five years late.
But what I really want to share with you today, friends, is proof that wedding mania hasn’t pushed the human race to the brink of hell. Sometimes, a thank-you note is not a source of stress, errors and resentment.
In April, my husband and I attended the out-of-town wedding of one of my former co-workers who has remained a friend.
I was feeling guilty, because after I paid for our accommodations, our budget was so tight that month that I didn’t have money left over for a decent wedding gift. So I wrote a nice message in a card for the bride and groom. There wasn’t even a gift card in the envelope. Just my well-wishes.
But several weeks later, this is the note I got in the mail:
I’m sharing it as an antidote to everything that’s wrong with the world. Despite last week’s controversial interview, I haven’t given up on marriage. But my friend just restored my faith in weddings, too.