I Got Married

So we got married on October 2, 2020. It became clear over the summer that an actual party was well over a year away. I remember at the end of March when Mom was worried that the pandemic would impact the wedding. Who knew that would be the least of our problems? 

Knowing that an actual party would have to wait until 2022 most likely, we decided to legally wed now. If we tied our marriage license to the time we could re-hire our DJ and photographer and find a venue for 130 of our greatest friends, we could be living in a sin a bit longer. 

We only invited Eileen and Young. We asked Joey, our Seamless recruiter, to officiant. He brought his husband Kevin to photograph it and sign as our witness. No one else was there Dad. If you were alive, I’m not sure this would have worked for you. Sometimes I think you would have pushed for 30 people in the backyard. But reading these COVID wedding outbreak stories might have also triggered “lawsuit” in your mind. I can only guess what you would have thought, but I can’t know. 

We considered having our mini ceremony in the courtyard behind Second. That area is all boarded up though. We landed on Madison Square Park, the site where Sung greeted me with Shake Shack fries on our second date. This is also right across from Eataly where Sung and I first hit it off. Remember when we had lunch on the Eataly rooftop? I got a beer because it was my birthday. I went back to work shortly thereafter and was slightly buzzed. Whoops. We had our wedding lunch there Dad.  

It rained a little in the morning, which made for an emptier park for us. I understand when people fret over the weather impacting their golf outing, their backyard BBQ, or their Jones Beach concerts, but I’ve always tried to let that fade into the background because it is something I can’t control. And the day had to be a little less than perfect because you weren’t there. 

We took some pictures and had our ceremony. Joey said the most thoughtful things. We did our own vows. The whole ceremony was 10 minutes maybe, and my only regret was not bringing a microphone. 

We signed our marriage license, which Joey carefully guided through as our minister and document expert. He had to put an address for our ceremony location and he chose 11 Madison Park, right across the street. You would have loved to tell people I got married at Eleven Madison Park. I am so lucky that we’ve dined there twice, both nights imprinted on my memory, sipping scotch the first time we went and battling the snow the second time around.

For a lot of our mini wedding moments, I didn’t feel you there. This was certainly not the wedding you planned. And I don’t think it was the makeshift wedding you would have wanted either. Aside from reading our own vows, there was no resemblance to our original wedding, where you would have walked me down the aside, made a speech, and danced the night away. 

We may still have a party one day, and that’s when I’ll see you lurking in every corner, asking me why the DJ is setting up on that side or why we didn’t spend more money for an extra bartender. You’ll encourage me to get whatever I want, so that I will be happy. But you’ll encourage me to get whatever the guests could possibly want, so they have the time of their lives.

For one minute, I can think of my little park wedding with Sung and genuinely smile for the extremely personal and intimate way we started our marriage. And the next minute, I’ll picture the aisle at Second, and I’ll cry hysterically. Someone else who lost their Dad told me that when he died, she was immediately sad that he would never go to her wedding, even though she didn’t even have her wedding on the horizon. And I saw her and heard her.

We had so much more in store for our lives together. But that’s the day I can visualize from start to finish. We were so close, yet so far. 

There is honestly so much shit right now that you are not missing. The election is a terrifying shitstorm. Subways can be dangerous. More people are getting sick. If you came back to me now, I would have told you you picked a good 6 months to be away. But I can’t believe you weren’t here for my wedding. I know that will be one of the bigger moments of my life that you’ll miss. Maybe everything else from here will pale in comparison. 

I’m so scared of how much more missing you I have to do. I know it will never end but it’s always like a Cape May wave I don't see coming. It's bigger than expected and I can’t run far enough, so I get caught in the undertow. 

I miss you Dad. And when I don’t feel you somewhere, it is not because I don’t miss you. It’s because it's taken a totally different shape without you. And these days, I appreciate the low tide to balance the crashing waves to come. And when I get hit with that wave, it knocks me down, but sometimes, being knocked down is what I need.