I got married two years ago today. It didn’t look like what I thought it would, especially during this crazy age of Pinterest boards and hanging floral centerpieces. My big day evolved into a pretty untraditional destination wedding.
There was no ring, no champagne and no Canon in D… hell, there wasn’t even a groom in sight. My wedding dress was a johnny gown, that doubled as my something blue. My Catholic church was a Boston hospital. My hairstylist and make up artists were nurses and a surgical team. I even ended up being my own photographer (as seen from my selfie above) as it was often just me and the persistent beeping of a heart monitor of my (now fixed) Mitro Valve .
Don’t worry… don’t worry…. it’s not nearly as depressing as it sounds. I mean, I wasn’t completely alone… family and friends were in attendance, coming and going throughout my seven day ICU ceremony.
Wait… feeling perplexed?
I understand Mom, since mine was a type of marriage that we never talked about… IT WAS A MARRIAGE TO MY SELF. On the morning of January 8th, 2018, Dad and Christina walked me down the “aisle” into Brigham & Women’s hospital and I TOOK RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY LIFE and electively chose to have open heart surgery before I was told by Dr. Singh that I HAD to.
I committed to blending my comfortable “old” life with the great unknown while uniting my broken heart with the gift of my writing to keep me grateful and awake.
For the first time in my 34 years on this earth, I vowed in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, till death do us part, I would at long last honor and unconditionally love my Self.
Two years later, and there is still so much of that love all around me. I feel it just as much as I did when I said YES to healing my heart. I began a journey with my forever life partner. And now it’s me and my whole heart for my whole life.
Looking back, my wedding was such a blur… but then again… it was also exactly like they always said… “the best day of my life.”