Category: Contests

DANA DIAMOND: Vegas, Baby!

I didn’t cry at my wedding. If you knew me, you’d know how shocking that is. I cry at commercials, songs…the beauty of a nature hike can bring me to tears. But at my own wedding I didn’t shed a single tear.

Why?

Because I was so concerned about everything else!

I remember watching my husband as I walked down the aisle. This man, who doesn’t cry and still won’t admit that he did on our wedding day, was leaking like a sieve.

And here I was, with this big, fat, dopey grin on wondering why the hell I wasn’t crying…and if the coordinator had maneuvered the cake onto the dance floor like she’d hoped, and if my mom was having fun, and if the guests were comfortable, and if I would laugh my head off inappropriately during my vows, and if I would remember the steps to the intricate waltz my husband and I had practiced for our first song.

For the record, everything went beautifully. Every wedding has a major disaster story, right? Mine didn’t.

By all accounts, everyone had an amazing time. Our ceremony didn’t last too long. The food was excellent, though I only got a bite of mine. The toasts were poignant. Everyone danced like it was 1999. And our first dance was so good my girlfriend’s mom just told me last week that it is the most beautiful first dance she’s ever seen…and it was almost a decade ago.

So, even though I had this perfect, wonderful day, I always felt a little cheated that I hadn’t cried. What was wrong with me? Didn’t I love my husband? Was I not touched by the sentiment of the day?

I got my answer last year.

When we first got married we thought it’d be fun it to renew our vows in Vegas. It sounded like so much fun we said, “Let’s do it every year!”

But you know how life goes. It took us years to actually do it.

So off we went last year. And when I say we, I mean my mom and the kids too. I couldn’t leave them out of such a momentous occasion!

We stayed at the Paris. It was gorgeous! And my husband took care of all the arrangements for this ceremony. All I had to do was show up…and get the kids dressed, of course.

I didn’t wear white. There was no DJ. No photographer. No five-tier white cake with gum paste roses. No crystal Tiffany lamps on the tables. No reception at all.

But I cried.

When we got to the chapel, made famous by Michael Jordan and Jackie Collins, we ran into another lovely couple from Boston who, on a lark, hopped a plane to renew their vows after 25 years. We were chatting and cracking up in the lobby with the same attitude of “What the hell…ain’t this a kick?” But when they came out, their faces were tear-stained and wobbly. I couldn’t believe it.

“What did they do to you in there?” I asked.

But they just smiled and shrugged. They couldn’t answer. But they left hand in hand and cuddling like 18 year-olds.

Hmm…

Then it was our turn. My little ones were our attendants, which was really cute because one of them was just walking. And I do mean just walking. We were so proud.

And then it was time for our vows.

What went through my head this time can only be compared to what people say go through your head when you face death except it was like a montage of every hardship and joy we’d faced together. And everything the officiator said was the perfect counterpoint to everything I was feeling.

I couldn’t believe it. This cheesy Vegas ceremony in a rundown chapel that married couples faster than you could get prescription glasses affected me more than my wedding that took me a year and a half to plan.

But there I was. Focused solely on my husband this time…I didn’t know I could love him any more than I already did, but in that moment I loved him more than I ever had.

And you know all those fears you have when you’re first going through it? Can we really make it? Am I really choosing Mr. Right like I think I am? Well, while I was renewing my vows, those uncertainties weren’t even on the radar. I knew we could make it. We had. I knew he’d be Mr. Right. He was.

I bawled my freaking eyes out!

But this time there was one disaster. My little one lost Bunny! We looked for that damned thing everywhere before we finally found it…in the parking lot…with a tire track on it from where limo had run it down. Poor Bunny. My little one cried too.

Dana Diamond is the OCC/RWA Secretary, a columnist for OCC’s award winning Orange Blossom Newsletter, a contributor to The Writer’s Vibe and hard at work on her next book. For more on Dana and her interview with Charlene Sands, be sure to visit Dana’s blog at: http://www.danadiamond.blogspot.com/

JACKIE RADOUMIS: Going to the Chapel

Going to the chapel…I wondered if I’d ever get my turn. There were only two of us not married from our high school group. I’d recently turned twenty-one, did my share of dating, but was getting discouraged. I didn’t want to end up a died-on-the-vine virgin. How humiliating would that be?

In the summer of 1960 a girlfriend and I were visiting her aunt and uncle at their apartment. There was a big pool and lots of singles living there, including a great looking guy who wore Bermudas. I met him the next day. His name was Nick, and he looked even better in his swim trunks…a real Greek god. Have I mentioned that Nick’s my favorite name? In fact, in my whole life I’ve never met a Nick I didn’t like. And to top it off my stepfather’s name is Nick and he’s the best dad in the world.

Nick was nice, friendly, funny, but not a flirt. He looked in my eyes while we talked. He didn’t stare at my bosom like most guys did. Or, at least he wasn’t obvious about it.

I’d always planned to marry a man with an education, close to my age, a guy who’d never been married or had children. Nick was ten years older than I. He’d quit school to go to work and got his high school credits while serving as a See Bee in the Navy. He was divorced with a seven-year-old daughter. However, none of that mattered. He was all I’d ever want. Someone I’d love forever. As for Nick, he had promised himself never to marry again, but how could he resist a gal like me? Obviously he couldn’t.

GOING TO THE CHAPEL: Nick is the baby of nine in an all-Greek family. With four brothers and three sisters still living, there was love to spare and pranks galore. The most unforgettable prank was when our best man, Nick’s brother Al, nearly convinced my mom that it was Greek tradition for the best man to spend the first night with the bride. Was he serious? Ha! My dad knew a kidder when he saw one.

Nick and I were both on a tight budget, so I made my own dress. We kept everything very simple…cake, coffee and punch. I’ll never forget the look on Nick’s face when daddy walked me down the aisle, nor will I ever forget the sight of my groom in a white dinner jacket and black tux pants. It’s what love songs are based on. I was ready to begin my new life with Nick…definitely a keeper.

I learned later that when Nick and his groomsmen changed into their tuxes, Nick discovered that his shirtsleeve was ripped from the shoulder all the way down to his cuff. It was too late to exchange it, and no one would notice as long as he kept his jacket on, so ripped shirt and all he finished dressing. The guys went into the sanctuary to wait with the minister for their next cue. Suddenly one of Nick’s jacket buttons hit the floor. All the guys dropped to their hands and knees in search of the white button hiding somewhere on the flooring of black and white linoleum squares. Time was marching on. The minister found it then looked out into the pews where a few early guests awaited and asked if anyone had a sewing kit. The mother of our replacement flower girl had one and offered to sew the button back on. Talk about fate! The original girl’s mom might not have been as well prepared for such emergencies.

THE PROCESSIONAL: My nervous and excited mom had trouble dealing with her “little girl” getting married and leaving home, even though she adored Nick. She’d taken some medication to calm her down and calm her down it did. Most of the day’s happenings became but a vague memory in her mind. She was supposed to stand up when the organist hit the note to signal the beginning of the wedding march, and the guests would follow her lead. Then daddy and I would come down the aisle. However, she stood at the signal for the processional. The entire wedding party along with everyone else in the church stood through the full procession. There was some confusion to say the least, but it all worked out, with the last few participants running up the aisle with the bewildered flower girl and ring bearer tagging along behind.

It was my turn. Blissfully unaware of all the craziness in the sanctuary, daddy and I drifted languidly up the aisle and stopped before God, the minister and Nick. Our vows were lovingly exchanged and Nicholas Tom Radoumis and Jacqueline Allene Nicholson were united in marriage ‘til death do us part or Kingdom Comes.

THE RECEPTION: Nick’s car club consists of longtime friends. Nick had learned only moments ago that the gang had rented a cabin in Big Bear for the weekend, and they intended to kidnap me and take me with them to the mountains without my groom. I was incensed. We only had four days for our honeymoon, and I sure as heck didn’t plan to spend it without my man. During our entire reception I kept Nick in an arm-lock that that would have made Gorgeous George proud.

THE HONEYMOON: Nick’s former roomie made reservations for us at the Sands in Las Vegas for our wedding gift. When we went to check out, we learned that the guy hadn’t paid the bill. You know what they say about assumptions. Thankfully, our best man and my dad gave us some cash as we left for our honeymoon. We paid the bill and avoided spending the remainder of our honeymoon in a Nevada jail.

We celebrated the forty-fifth anniversary this year of our February 11, 1961, GOING TO THE CHAPEL, and, no, we weren’t riding in a covered wagon with Indian arrows wizzing by!

Jackie Radoumis has won one Golden Heart and finaled two other times, and she’s finaled or placed in several other contests. She is a long time member of OCC/RWA and has served in many positions on the Board of Directors, including Co-President. Jackie is also the winner of OCC/RWA’s Orange Blossom Award for exceptional service.

GERALYN RUANE: Claim Your Day

Dixon.

I once went a wedding that was all about Dixon.

Was he the bride? The groom? No. He was the father of the bride. And frankly, there was no way the wedding should have been all about him.

It all began the night of the rehearsal dinner. Dixon stood up to give a toast. But first, he handed out packets to each guest. PACKETS. Several pages of single-spaced material Dixon had found on the internet, “funny” stuff about what it means to be a wife, a husband, a married couple. For his toast to his daughter Elizabeth and her soon-to-be-husband Mitch, he read through it ALL. In a slow, monotone voice. This took about forty-five minutes.

When my guy Ron and his friend Larry, life-long best friends of Mitch, got up to make their toast, it went like this:

Elizabeth, we now see that Mitch likes you most
So we hope your marriage lasts
At least as long as Dixon’s toast

Dixon was thrilled, hamming it up for the guests. Sure, he was being teased and everyone was laughing, but they were laughing at a joke about HIM.

Next: The Wedding. The ceremony itself lasted about 5 minutes out in the frigid wind of a Connecticut November, then we all moved inside to party.

Dixon brought his clarinet to the wedding. He kept trying to get the band to let him play along, but he didn’t know any of the songs. So while they played without him and people danced, he kept going to the microphone trying to get everyone’s attention to say I know not what since his attempts to commandeer everyone’s attention never quite worked. Whenever the band had a break, though, Dixon – anxious to play his clarinet – would make them stay and play, “When the Saints Come Marching In” with him. Which I guess is understandable, since that’s such a classic wedding tune.

Finally, it was time to cut the cake. There were Mitch and Elizabeth, slicing into the mile-high abundance of confection.

And Dixon stepped in.

I mean, right in between the two of them cutting the cake! The man could not be left out of anything!

So, his daughter Elizabeth turned to him and flung the cut piece of cake right down the front of Dixon’s crisp white shirt. But before he could ham it up the crowd, she pushed him back away from the cake and moved closer to Mitch, shutting Dixon out.

Yay Elizabeth!!! Yay!!!

After two days of Dixon Dixon Dixon, she claimed her day!

Geralyn Ruane is the author of “Jane Austen Meets the New York Giants”
in Marlo Thomas’s book THE RIGHT WORDS AT THE RIGHT TIME, Vol. 2, April 2006, and the OCC/RWA Vice President