The Hours Before – Grieving Gardener

Throughout the planning of the wedding, it seemed the stars were aligned for the perfect outcome. Needing a venue, we found the golf course clubhouse could be rented for $75 an hour, (including staff). Searching for flowers, we only needed to call our dear friend at the flower shop. Photographer? A professional walked into our life agreeing to do the job. Friends and family? They were ready to celebrate.

Every detail had been considered and planned except for my hair.

Up or down?

My salon experiences ended in 2020 when all the hairdressers shut down because of Covid. With no opportunity to whack off the locks, they grew. After four summers, my hair is longer than it’s been in decades. Long, straight as a board, and a beautifully appropriate color for my age. Grey with God-given highlights.

Just yesterday, someone commented about how lucky I must’ve been the 70’s. So true. My hair was Cher or Marcia Brady straight. It’s really the only way that I can wear it with any success, as it is truly course, thick, and straight. All the more to experiment with.

On most days, you’ll find me with the mess tied on top of my head in a pony tail or bun. There are many reasons for this, the main one being the Zephyr winds blowing across the high desert plains of northwestern Nevada . They can blow at a moments notice, making it impossible to see very well with a mop of hair flying in the eyes. The next best reason is that it’s just easier to tie it up.

It would probably be a great time to wear it short again, but at this time in life, I really, really like it long. It matters not what the masses think. I like it the way it is, long and straight. Besides, in the winter, it is super warm. No kidding.

So, when my dearest friend (who’s happened to cut my hair throughout our 40 year friendship) came prepared to style my hair for the wedding, she curled the entire mass. I’m told it looked beautiful. I can tell you one thing for sure. It was voluminous.

As my dearest friends worked over me in the bathroom, curling and teasing, I know one thing was certain. The women surrounding me were the ones I love the most in this world. They were there supporting me on my most special day. Rather like an Autumn version of “Steel Magnolias”.

They were also supporting me four summers prior when a different kind of celebration was held at Winterpast. VST’s celebration of life. The same women came to the rescue to help me through that week. Thank goodness the reason for their presence was filled with sheer happiness on my special October day.

Of course, it’d been necessary to slither into some Spanx. For goodness sakes, whoever dreamt up that contraption had some evil intentions. No matter the position in which you start, by time you are into the Spanx, you have done some interesting contortions and gyrations. No one was allowed to watch that show, but for those of you that remember the day I got stuck in a wet, long-sleeved swimsuit, the situation was similar. I started out dry but worked up a little sweat until I was tucked into the thing.

With something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue, the time came to slip on my beautiful royal blue wedding dress. The prettiest dress ever, it was chosen because it was HHH’s favorite color. Completing the look, sparkling navy flats that ended up being the most comfortable part of the ensemble.

Everyone ooh–ed and ahhhh-ed as they do for every bride. On that very afternoon, with loved ones surrounded me, at that moment I felt they just might be telling the truth.

That morning, I never developed nervous jitters or doubted my decision. I continued to think about that very long aisle and the wonderful man that would be waiting at the end of it for me.

I must say that this last month has been the happiest, busiest, and most carefree month I’ve had in decades. Maybe ever. Married life has been everything I hoped for. I couldn’t have married anyone more deserving of the precious title “My Husband”. I love you, HHH!