Once again, a quiet week in Murforelli wedding planning land (although we do now have -- supposedly -- complete guest lists from all parents.) Murf is away on business for the THIRD straight week in a row, this time to Napa Valley, so I've been keeping myself occupied by
- joining a new gym right near my work to get the Ultimate! Wedding! Workout!
- prepping for the South End Open Market on Sunday
- watching the VP debates with Half Pint, Mr. Car, and Will P
- oh, and reading the nice chunky stack of bridal magazines lent to me by makeup artist extraordinaire Ms. Tara of tada!
As some of you know, both Mark and I felt a bit hesitant to have a Roman Catholic ceremony (even though both we and are families are RC.) I guess we originally thought something outside, with a close friend officiating, and a Franciscan brother from The Prof's days in FrancisCorp doing a blessing seemed more "us." But after realizing how important a traditional, faith-based service is to our respective (Catholic) families, we reserved a church near to the restaurant/reception.
The church is gorgeous, but the fees for being wed there add up to almost $900...and the organist won't even play my sole request of Elvis gospel songs pre-ceremony. However, we had accepted the cost and location, until my Mom mentioned that the church she had been attending boasted a beautiful interior and more budget-friendly. I was on the fence since I've never seen the inside of this second church, but agreed to follow up and call the rectory.
Yesterday, I spoke with the priest at the new "contender." Not only is the fee drastically cheaper, but when I told him my name, he revealed that it was he who gave my dear little Nona her last rights shortly before she passed away 16 months ago. Her priest in town was unavailable that night, and Father Chad came to do the anointing in his absence.
Hearing his story, I felt some sort of calming balance; one of the last people to commune spiritually with one of my most cherished loved ones seems like an obvious choice to send Mark and I on our way into this new life together. Maybe from somewhere, that day, she'll see us, Father Chad, and clap her hands together in joyful excitement.
Saint Gertrudes, to be referred to in the future as "Gertie's"...
Dude, you made me tear up. It was meant to be. Go Gertie.
Posted by: aclassicgirl | Saturday, 04 October 2008 at 06:46 AM