“Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ABBA

This one has taken me a while to write about, probably because I wasn’t sure where to start. 

A few weeks ago, Ashes and Dan were married at Castleton in New Hamsphire. It was a beautiful day for a wedding, and that was a huge relief, because we’ve had so many rainy weekends this year, and the day before had been one big rainstorm. But for some reason, the gods were smiling down and the day was absolutely perfect. 

Dan and Ashes were married outside by the water in a ceremony officiated by his gay uncle, whose other half is a drag queen. The entire ceremony was rather non-traditional. Brian ended his speech with “Good luck, and don’t…f*** it up,” for example. During the reception, Dan and Ashes entered by singing the very start of “Rose Tint my World,” after which the wedding party burst into the Time Warp.

Some people said it was one of the best weddings they had ever been to. I don’t know if that is a bit of hyperbole, but it was awfully nice to hear. It certainly was, for me!

Here are the two stories I have told the most since the wedding. One is serious, the other silly.

Right before we arrived at the wedding site, the photographer, who was kind of a prissy guy and fought with the day planner the entire day, wanted a photo of me seeing Ashes in her gown for the first time. It sounds good in theory, but I was totally acting during it. First off, she wasn’t ready for the shot (of course), so Corb and I had to wait an hour outside her hotel room to go in and take the photo, so we were a bit grumpy, naturally. And second, it just felt forced. I felt like I was pretending to be overwhelmed with emotion the entire time. 

To be honest, it kind of worried me. Was that how I was going to feel the entire time? Was this my daughter’s big day and I was going to, like Morales, feel nothing?

Then the time came for the actual ceremony. And I tell you, as I walked to her suite to walk my girl down that aisle, as I opened that door to spend a few quiet moments with her…

“Well, here we are,” I said.

She looked up. “Hi dad.”

And as I gave her a big hug, I genuinely started to tear up and started to blubber. And let me tell you, I am an ugly crier. A big old ugly crier. 

“I love you, sweetie.” And as we hugged, without warning, the door to her suite started to open up. We both looked over.

But no one was at the door. It had just opened by itself. I looked over at Ashes. “I guess Nana Mitchell wanted to see you in your dress,” I said. Nana Mitchell, who had passed away so long ago now, who made dinner for Ashes and me every Wednesday night for years when Ashes was just eight years old. And now…look how grown up she is. 

Ashes and I looked at each. And I started ugly crying again. And then, wiping away the tears, I led her out the door to walk her down the aisle. It was time.

The far less serious story happened after the wedding was over. As we were packing up, Ashes was stuck with a dilemma–how to transport the wedding cake, which the staff had inexplicably not served the guests? ‘

Ashes asked if Corb and I could help move it, but our truck was still at Ashes’ hotel, as we drove to the location in the limo with Ashes. So we were bumming a ride from Alex. Ever so carefully, we placed the cake into the back of Alex’s car, and strapped it in with a seat belt. And at the point, Ashes asked us for one more favor: could we drive the maid of honor back to her hotel? Gulp. It was going to be a tight ride, but okay.

Only one twist: the maid of honor was…well, three sheets to the wind.

Which made for an amazing ride to the hotel, as she spent the ride telling us how much she loved Ashes. “I love that girl! No, really I do. I’d do anythingforher! I’d takeabullet for her, I’d bethere if she need anything. That girl…that girl..that girl means everything to me! She is my total, total, total besty. Fer reals.”

And more like that for the fifteen minutes it took to get to the hotel. Except for one two minute period where she grew silent.

We all looked over. She had fallen asleep on the cake. 

And as she got out of the car, she took one look at the cake, which now had a large elbow mark on the top layer, turned to us, and said, “That was like the when I got in the car, I swear.”

Gulp. Glad I paid so much for that comfy pillow. And also, glad that my husband went to Johnson and Wales. 

The next day, we took the cake home, removed the top layer, and Corb worked his magic. He turned the second layer into what now resembled a galaxy cake and we wrapped that up for Dan and Ashes. And the rest of the week, we feasted on cake pops. A win/win all around.

What the stories don’t talk about are the intense feelings I had during this entire weekend. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Josie and I had divorced…and all the drama surrounding my relationship with Corb and pretending that we weren’t together for so long. Ashes and I haven’t always had the easiest relationship through the years, and I have such feelings of guilt and sadness and overwhelming protectiveness for her. Too much protectiveness. I really should have stopped worrying about so much, because she turned out just fine.

And I am so, so happy that her and Dan met. Before she met him, right at the start of the pandemic, she was in a really horrible relationship and I was frankly worried she would be living at my house for the rest of my life. Dan does so much to complete her, and he is totally devoted to her. They are truly a perfect couple, and I couldn’t be any happier. And relieved that she found her happy ending.

Ashes and I have been on a thirty year journey that ends with this walk down the aisle. Or rather, begins a new journey. And I have been so happy to be there supporting her, every step of the way.