Today is Saturday, March 23, 2024. It’s finally here: the day that would have been our wedding day.

It’s a day I started dreaming about within the first two months of Emily and I “leveling up” to couple status. And, it’s a day Emily likely dreamed about from childhood into her teen years, like most “girly girls” do. A day that would have been filled with nervous excitement and pure bliss. One of the best days of my life.

But, here we are… And this date looks nothing like I thought it would.

I have debated how to mark this day for weeks now. Do I celebrate a day that never happened? Should I ignore it to avoid painful feelings? What would Emily do if the tables were turned?

Ultimately, I decided to do two things to mark this event:

1. I got a tattoo for Emily.

2. I am writing this blog post.

However, this post isn’t going to be a story from the past. It’s also not going to be helpful information for other widows. It is simply going to be my imagination creating a narrative on how I think today might have gone if we lived in an alternate dimension where Emily didn’t die.

Everything That Comes Before

As I mentioned, Emily and I had already started a bit of wedding planning before I even proposed. We both like to plan, and it didn’t take long for us to talk about the m word (marriage) once we started dating.

The wedding would be music themed, with colors being purple and green. We both decided to “fuck gender norms” and had begun assembling our wedding party filled with all of our favorite people. Guys, gals, and theys on both sides… A perfect queer wedding.

Although we looked at venues in both Nashville/Murfreesboro and Knoxville, I think Emily would have ultimately decided on a Knoxville venue (the reason why will make sense soon enough). It would, of course, be a venue that could allow for either indoor or outdoor ceremony and reception (Emily and I would ensure we planned for every possible worst-case scenario).

I would wear a pantsuit, while Emily would wear a dress. Our wedding party would have options as long as they followed the color scheme.

We’d buy the flowers wholesale and make up the arrangements the evening before and store them in fridges overnight. The rehearsal dinner would turn into a party with all of our family and close friends, and Emily and I would retire to separate sleeping places the night before because she’d want to follow all the wedding superstitions plus a few others her OCD made up on its own.

The day of the wedding, we wouldn’t see each other until we went to visit Granny together at the nursing home and let her be the witness for our official first look so she felt included in our special day. (This was our plan, so I’ve decided in an alternate universe where Emily lives, Granny can still be alive, too. This is also why Knoxville made more sense for the wedding.) Then we’d arrive at the venue and split up again until the ceremony begins.

The Most Beautiful Bride

We may not have gotten very far in tangibly planning the ceremony, but we had decided a lot before I even officially proposed (I have no poker face and kids can’t keep secrets). So, I know without a doubt that the majority of this would be correct (with a few additions given my current life).

A woodwind quartet begins to play. My grandparents would enter, followed by my parents, then Emily’s mom, likely escorted by her younger brother (part of the wedding party).

The music would change, I would enter, taking the traditional role of the groom, with our officiant (likely our friend Nick because his wife, who happens to be our pastor, wouldn’t be able to perform a gay ceremony per The Book of Discipline). After that, the junior bridesmaids would enter, my oldest kid and Emily’s nieces. The procession would continue with our all genders wedding party. Finally, the flower girl and ring bearer (Emily’s youngest niece and my youngest kid) would walk down the aisle, both of them grinning for their moment of fame.

A brief silence would take over, followed by the cue for everyone to rise and turn to see Emily and her father standing at the end of the aisle, ready to enter. I can’t help but begin to cry, completely blown away by how absolutely stunning she looks. I can’t breathe, time stands still, I’m in awe this gorgeous, intelligent, companionate woman actually wants to be with me.

Her dad walks her down, crying himself, and they finally reach the rest of us at the other end of the aisle. When Emily reaches me, our eyes lock, and I whisper a Grey’s reference to make her laugh.

The ceremony is lovely, and the officiant has taken a few liberties to trigger laughter. Then, the best moment arrives: our vows. I’d read mine first, likely bringing on tears for everyone along with some laughs and Grey’s Anatomy inserted. Emily would make a point to mention it isn’t fair I got to read mine first since I’m the writer (likely a joke related to my jab about editing all of her grad school papers). But, in the end, her words blow me away, and I am sobbing again.

We exchange rings, I’m given permission to kiss her, and us being who we are, we turn into a long, passionate kiss while everyone makes noises about it and Eleanor shouts, “Ew! I said no kissing!”

We Party Hard

If you know anything about Emily and I, then you can probably guess what part of the event we were more excited to play: the reception. We knew a significant portion of our budget would go to alcohol (if you’re been to a wedding with the Scullys or the McCoys, you’ll know why). We also had agreed we wanted to dance… A lot… And have fun!

As you walked into the reception, you see tables with centerpieces consisting of musical instruments and flowers. The dance floor is obviously marked out, the traffic flow to the bar is easy, and there’s a photo booth. Near the guest book (where we encourage everyone to provide their photo booth pictures), we’ve set up a special table for Victor, Emily’s grandparents and mine who have passed. There is also a clearly marked “Kid Corner” with games, art supplies, and a few other goodies to keep them entertained.

Cocktail hour includes some snacks and lots of drinks, while we wrap up the last of the pictures. Then, everyone is seated, and the room goes silent. Speeches from each of our appointed “Best Persons” provide both laughter and tears. Then, I say it’s time for dinner!

Our first dance is “The Story” by Sara Ramirez. Emily and her dad share a lovely Daddy-Daughter dance while my mom and I break tradition and boogie down to “Ms. Jackson” by Outkast. There’s lots of dancing, lots of drinking, and lots of glasses clinking (which I’m not complaining about because I love to kiss her).

Eventually, we reach my favorite point in the night: a challenge! Emily attempts to perform “WAP” in her wedding gown. Then, I break out a dance I’ve spent months working on without Emily’s knowledge. It still looks terrible and she laughs her ass off, but it’s adorable and fun.

We keep partying until finally, the time comes for the reception to shut down. Emily and I drive away, and I can’t help but just look at her sitting next to me, utterly in disbelief that this woman agreed to marry me.

A Day May Never Come

Obviously, our perfect day didn’t happen. And, if I’m honest, I’m not sure if a wedding is ever in the cards for me. I’m flawed, and I miss Emily.

Although I’ve made some attempts at dating since she passed, I don’t know if anyone will stick around long enough for a forever kind of celebration.

In the meantime, I’m just going to try my best to live each day intentionally, just as Emily would want me to.