Down to the Wire: Learning to Dance

Adam and are great amateur dancers--at least in the literal sense of "amateur." We dance because we love it, not because we are any good at it. I've taken a few courses in ballroom and Latin dances, plus a year of ballet. Adam has dabbled in the waltz and swing. Put our combined inexperience together, add a sixteen-inch height difference, and you don't get a particularly winning combination.

But for us, it is a win. It has been really, really fun learning the Viennese waltz for our first dance together. We certainly don't have the time, talent, or skill for an elaborately choreographed wedding surprise, but we can dance competently and enjoy ourselves. Adam has put up with my one-sided criticisms and accidental toe-smashings with a smile on his face; I've learned how to keep my balance and sense of humor when my lead tumbles over in a dizzy heap. We've learned--albeit not mastered--a new skill... and we've done it together.

I guess the experience of learning to dance embodies most of the things I love best about our relationship. Part of learning to dance has been learning to cope with each others peculiarities--particularly the height difference, but also Adam's nervousness and my fools-rush-in attitude about trying new things. When we dance the Viennese waltz at the wedding to country waltz music, we will be acting on our tendency to be slightly out of sync with what's normal--but only slightly. Our friends have taught and encouraged us, so we've been able to incorporate a community of people who love us into an activity we were trying together. Best of all, though, dancing is just one of the "amateur" things we get to do together. We paint. We sing. We dance. We cook. We don't do anything expertly, but we're willing to try just about any new skill. Even when we fail, we have a great time.

Trying new things isn't part of what marriage is "about." But it is a part of what we're about. That's part of what I'm so grateful for Adam.

Showered

Yesterday marked the final of my three showers. I feel so very loved for all the affection, generosity, and attention that have been showered on Adam and me.

This shower was a little bit different. It was co-ed, for one thing. It worked better than I expected to have guys there. I think Adam felt very included.

It also wasn't a shower for traditional gifts. It was a pantry shower. We got a gift bag of various vinegars, a colander full of midnight snacks, a pistachio pesto making kit... even a Rubbermaid tub full of cleaning supplies.

Lindsay did an absolutely fantastic job planning an event that was warm and welcoming for people of many different ages and relationships to us. Again, I find myself extremely grateful for her and for her friendship.

Adam and I are very, very lucky. We understand that many people face real obstacles to getting married like financial difficulties or unsupportive parents. But every single person who has been a part of our marriage preparation--our parents, family, friends, and priests--have shown us what a loving community we have the honor to be a part of. Thank you, as a reader, for being a part of that community.


(Click here to view more photos from the shower.)

Rugs

I know it doesn't seem like much, but Adam and I bought rugs this afternoon. It's such a special experience slowly building our home together.

Wedding Party: Erica the Bridesmaid

Part four in my (now almost complete) series on the bridal party...

My younger sisters are twins, so there is no picking one without the other. Not that it would have mattered. Erica has been an extraordinary blessing in so may ways. I don't know what I would have done without her.

I think Erica may be the most excited member of the wedding party. She's the one who calls every week or so to remind me, "Four more months!" or "Three more weeks!" She helped keep my enthusiasm up, even on the days in Oxford when America, Adam, and marriage seemed so far away. Erica is probably the closest to marriage of my bridal party, so she really understands my joy. And Erica has that rare virtue of always accepting a loved-one's joy as her joy, too.

Erica has also found the way to strike the right balance between refusing to offer her opinions and backing off to let me make a decision. When we went dress shopping, most people who went with me said, "You should get whatever you like," or "Get that one! The other one looks awful on you!" Erica was the one who watched me for my reactions. She waited until she saw me put on the dress that made me happy. "That's the one," she said. And she was right. It was so nice having someone identify what I wanted from the embarrassment of choices at the bridal store. That's just the way she is, the way I aspire to be--helpful without ever being overbearing.

Erica has gone out of her way to be the helpful bridesmaid, but not in an annoying way. When she calls with a question she never says, "Why don't you do this?" or "You should ask Mom to do that." She calls and says, "I think we should do this. How can I help?" Her attitude has meant a lot to me, planning a wedding from afar. I haven't always taken up her offers, but I love knowing she's there to help no matter what.

Last night, for example, Erica called to tell me that the girl who had agreed to do my make-up backed out. I was disappointed--Erica knew I would be. But Erica never just calls with bad news. "Why don't you let me do your make-up?" she asked. Knowing I would be skeptical, she supported her offer with offers to learn from friends and on YouTube before a practice run the week before the wedding. She even volunteered to find a friend to do my make-up for me if I was too nervous about her doing it. Erica is the only person I know who offers help that way. She offered to put a lot of work into rendering me an important service, but gave me an easy out if I didn't want to take it. That's just Erica--my unassuming, always-generous, little sister/bridesmaid Erica. I am, as I always have been, grateful just to know her.

Enlightened

Catholics are used to accepting challenges of sexism in the Church. What could possibly be more sexist than a patriarchal organization with an all-male hierarchy? The Church controls women, telling them how to behave and imposing restrictions on their bodies, at least according to popular imagination. I have to say--although, as one of the "oppressed," my opinion may be tainted--that nothing could be further from the truth in my experience as a Catholic convert.

I've posted before about my early attempts to define my personal strengths within a masculine paradigm, trying to make myself more like a man to win the world's respect. It made me disliked (which was probably unfair) and utterly unhappy. It wasn't until I started exploring Catholicism that I discovered the Church's liberating teaching about the complementary strengths of men and women. I am special and equally valued for what I am as I was made.

I was delighted to find the same liberation in the very rite of marriage. For example, in many religious sects, the father of the bride or a trusted friend gives the bride to the groom; the Catholic Church rejects this teaching as a symbolic denial of a woman’s right to choose marriage for herself. I am the one who chooses my own destiny. My person and my maidenhead are mine to give to Adam just as much as he is his own person to give to me. Similarly, Catholic marriage vows affirm an equal partnership between bride and bridegroom. Even in the Old Rite, both partners make the same vow. No wife has to promise to obey.

There are many, I'm sure, who would still object to the Church's teaching about femininity and marriage. But I, for one, feel free and valued by the Church. I'm not just a machine for making little Catholics--Adam and I are a team, two partners representing humanity's relationship with the divine.