Part XV

Part XV

The Finale

(Epilogue to follow) 

My feet were stuck to the sandy shoreline as I continued to try and fit all the various jig-saw pieces of this scenario together.

But he’s only here for another day…

He must be joking…

Who would joke about a thing like this??

But, we haven’t even really talked about this…

He’s getting all wet from the waves!

But…. Is he seriously serious???

“Jen!  Get over here!” he demanded eventually.  His face, smiling all the while, was a white as a sheet, and I could see his hands trembling.  Those small indications proved the momentum of the moment and caused my feet to finally pick themselves up and move, one after the other, until I reached his side.  Reaching for my hand with his free one, he pulled me onto his raised knee and laid his head on my bosom.  I could feel him begin calm with merely touching me.  I loved how he ached to be near me.  Taking a deep breath, he pulled away and looked me square in the eyes. 

He began with how deeply he loved me.  He relayed his feelings had always been this strong, since the very first time he noticed me in Colorado.  He loved me as he watched the whole Sasha joke play out.  He loved me over dinner that night.  His heart broke when I left for Minnesota.  And I broke his heart two more times when I denied him after his two, longing letters.  He claimed from the first moment he saw me in church that Sunday, he wanted me for his wife.  He spelled out, meticulously and sincerely, all the beautiful ways he loved me and wanted me for his wife.  And my heart was full.  So very, very full.

And in the midst of watching this man, whom had barged into my life – unannounced and unplanned for – reveal the depths of his love and his soul to me, I remember thinking how young I felt in that very moment.  All of a sudden, I felt as though I was back at thirteen years of age.  And here we were, two kids playing, dabbling with love as though it were finger paint.  Were we really and truly old enough to be doing this: getting married, making promises, starting a family, vowing the rest of our lives to one another?  I looked at this man, this wonderfully amazing man, completely sure of everything: marriage, this situation, me, his love.  And I was sure.  Even though I couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling of being thirteen, I knew I loved him.  I knew that I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, live life without him.

As his monologue slowly faded, he opened the blue box and quickly flashed me the gorgeous ring before slipping it out of its case.  Grabbing my right hand, he shakily began to slide the ring onto my finger.

“Not so fast, Buddy Boy!”  I exclaimed as I jumped off his lap with a reproachful look.

“What?” he was confused and looked it.

“First off, the ring goes on my left hand.  And second of all, you haven’t even asked me yet if I want to marry you!”

He giggled nervously and combed his fingers through his hair in the familiar way that I loved.  I was right – in all his love talk, he had never truly popped “The Question.”

“Jenny Elizabeth Jeffrey?” he asked, taking my left hand in his.  His blue-grey eyes were smiling now without a shadow-of-a-doubt.  “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!  Yes!  Yes!”

*

We lingered there at the beach.  I wanted to savor the aloneness and revel in the thought that we knew something no one else knew.  We lounged, gazing at my perfect ring, sharing thoughts and feelings of how wonderful, yet slightly scary-serious it was to be Engaged.  Questions of how we would tell family and friends, when we’d want to get married, etc. were on our radar, but we wanted to marinate for moments longer in the oneness of our newly-defined relationship.  Looming on the not-so-distant horizon was his impending departure.  We had much to accomplish in this short period of time.

And so began the next 24-hours.  Sharing with family and friends our news.  Picking a date.  Planning what the next six months would look like for us, apart & together.  Where would we live after the wedding?  What was his military schedule/expectations?  By the end of the second day together, I had cried at least 23 times, he had gotten frustrated at me 15 times, and we had piled in more kisses than a 48-hour period knew possible.  We felt like straggly tumbleweeds, blown here and there with all the planning and phone calls, by the time I saw him off at the airport.  But, we were engaged, promised to one another for life.  And I felt deliriously happy.

*

Five and a half months.  That’s how long we had until we would be man and wife.  Five and a half months until I graduated, as well.  We managed to see each other twice in that time, each visiting each other in their respective place in the country.  And while Travis was busy with work and Air Force responsibilities, my mother and I planned a wedding – long distance.  We would be getting married in our home town before moving to Washington state for a month, then moving to Mississippi in July.  A crazy whirlwind of a life awaited me.  But for now, it was all I could do to focus on finishing school, treasuring these last months with my best friends, and plan the wedding far from home and family. 

Travis couldn’t make it to my graduation because he didn’t have enough leave saved up for our wedding, honeymoon and graduation, so something had to give.  After graduation, my family packed me up in an abundance of over-taped boxes and flew me home to California.  Two weeks before Travis was to meet me to say, “I do,” the Air Force kindly sent him on a western trip to Japan, Thailand, Guam, and Hawaii.  Unable to talk but once on that 10-day stint, he landed on American soil days before flying down to the central coast of California.  We were distant, stressed and discombobulated with all the time-zone changes and lack of communication.  Nothing could more adequately welcome me to the “tossed salad” life of a military wife. 

Late at night, the Thursday before our wedding, Travis landed in L.A. and drove our rental car all the way up the coast to meet me at my parents’ home, kiss me hello and goodnight, and rest up for our wedding.  We hadn’t seen each other in over two months, had barely talked for the past two weeks, and I was incredibly sleep deprived.  I prayed to God multiple times throughout each day to give me a sense of peace, security, and sureness in following through with this plan to marry my one, true Love.  I wondered if every bride felt this insecure, this distant, this scared.  Yet, in spite of all there was going against us, each day was filled with an unspeakable and incomprehensible amount of inner tranquility and utter stillness that God was bringing us together, even though it seemed the odds were against us.

*

Friday was a hustle and bustle of activity, picking friends and family up from the airport, trying to squeeze in every last minute with those we loved so dearly.  I was surprised when, shortly after lunch, Travis slipped silently through my front door and drew me to the side.

“What are you doing here?” I asked pleasantly taken aback to see him.  We hadn’t thought we’d see each other today, for lack of time.

“I need just a couple minutes with you.  Wanna go for a drive?”  His voice was warm, his eyes enticing, and I was overwhelmingly filled with a sense of missing him.  Time was the one thing I wanted most with this man, and there was just never enough of it.  Our honeymoon couldn’t come soon enough.

“Yes, but it’ll have to be quick.  I have to pick up Lisa from the airport in 45 minutes.”

And with that, he whisked me outside.  In two minutes, we were outside the city limits and cruising through the countryside vineyards.  Our fingers sliced through the fresh air, as we draped our arms out the windows lazily.  His right hand on my leg, my left arm caressing the back of his neck, we allowed the silence to reign over us, while each of our hearts took a deep, purifying breath. 

“I get to marry you tomorrow,” he stated with a grin, as he glanced over to me.  My eyes were shut, the sun beating down on my legs felt warm and delicious.  Smiling, but not opening my eyes, I mm-hmm-ed. 

The rest of the drive was blissfully quiet.  He knew I needed this break from the insanity to just be – be alone, be quiet, be with him.  Dropping me off at my parent’s door twenty minutes later, we both looked at each other.  Leaning in for a sweet kiss, he sighed deeply.  “I can’t wait til you’re all mine,” he murmured.  I could tell he wanted to kiss me more.  But the fact that we were parked in front of my parents’ house, with 7 cars in the driveway and people come and going, carrying large gifts and random dresses and slacks prevented him from getting carried away. 

“Just hold your horses, boy.  I’ll be all yours tomorrow.”  And I would.  To be Travis’ wife sounded about just the perfect thing.

He backed away into his seat.  “Is there anything I can do for you these last 24-hours or so?  I’ll see you tonight for the rehearsal, but anything I can pick up for you?  A cherry coke?”  He teased.  I loved cherry coke.

Opening the door to get out, I blew him a kiss.  “Naw, I’m fine.  Thanks for the drive.  I needed it.  See you tonight, Lovey.”  And I shut the door.

*

I awoke the next morning to my mother shaking me gently.  I had slept restlessly, just like every other night that week.  I was never one to be much fun when I lacked my sleep, but adrenaline had been pushing me for weeks now.  Thankfully, Our Day was finally here and I could bank on a good night’s sleep in the near future.  As for now, today was June 10.  Today was my wedding day and I needed no coaxing to feel the pure excitement and joy that filled me naturally.  Today, I would wed my Love in holy matrimony.  Today, I would become Travis’ wife.

What began as a quiet morning with hugs from my mother and father and a special breakfast downstairs before everyone else arose, quickly erupted into a mad house: people moving in and out of showers every five minutes, dresses and suits being ironed, nail polish fumes and hair spray aromas filling our nostrils.  My sisters, mom, and I relished the “once-in-a-lifetime” pleasure of getting our hair professionally done in a salon all to ourselves.  Jack Johnson’s “It’s Better When We’re Together” was playing appropriately in the background.  Looking around, I loved what I saw: my mother – faithful and loving mom, who’s heart was so bound to mine we could virtually read each other’s minds.  She had encouraged me, pushed me, and seen me through my whole life and was now partaking in the joy of giving me away.  Kate – my sister to whom I had cried, queried relational questions to all through this dating life of mine, and shared my darkest secrets.  She, who loved all things beautiful, was delighting the beauty-making of this morning, her sparkling blue eyes holding so much joy.  Betsy – my little sister who had been there from the very beginning of Travis and me.  She who joined me in Minnesota for college, and whom had truly been the best friend only a sister could be, for sister’s know no limit to love, know faithfulness extends beyond hurt and logistics, know true friendship.  I watched her as she tried to explain her desired hairstyle to the stylist, not piping up when it wasn’t exactly what she wanted – for she hated confrontation.  Kate quickly advocated for her, building visions of loveliness with her hands.  Those little moments of merely watching my family work and orchestrate all the details of my day stuck with me forever.  I was nothing without my family.  My heart was full of immense love and pride of what I was apart of – this family, though I was becoming part of another today, would always be my heritage. 

*

Bustling to the church, pictures, organizing, finding the flower girl, hiding from the groom and groomsmen.  My stomach was full of knots as I awaited my turn to walk down the aisle.  The church would be packed.  Both growing up in the same, small town and same church, it was nearly impossible to not invite everyone.  And I mean, ev.ery.one.  I couldn’t stop the smile that was plastered across my face, pure joy was pouring out of each fingertip and toe. 

Finally, it was time.  The 600+ guests were seated, our grandparents and parents being seated by my handsome brothers.  My bridesmaids and I were crammed into the mini-cry room at the back of the sanctuary.  While trying to calm my nerves, I shuffled anxiously from foot to foot, shaking my feet in between hops.  My sisters crowded at the small one-way window, craning to spy So-n-so.  When all of a sudden, Kate whispered loudly, “Jenny!  There’s Trav!”

I pushed my way to sneak a peek and yes, there he was.  My oh my, how just seeing him in his mess dress sent my heart racing.  His face was radiant and altogether dashing.  I couldn’t believe he was to be MINE.  That HE was the man I was to walk down the aisle to in just a couple moments.  Tears formed and my lips stretched even bigger than I thought possible in a wide smile.  “God,” I breathed.  “I don’t deserve this man… thank You.  Thank You.”

All at once, the time had come.  My sisters and Lisa left me one by one, then my sweet niece, Suzannah, begrudging walked down the aisle.  My dad came for me, holding out his arm, and I took it proudly.  Such mixed emotions in this traditional display of moving from Daddy’s girl to Travis’ wife.  Although I had become an independent woman throughout college and no longer truly needed my father, I loved him and wanted him.  My dad was security, unconditional love, strength, shelter, providence: all I had known.  Yet, he was handing me off – of my own accord and desire – to Travis, whom I loved, but had not yet experienced life with.  Handing me off to the unknown, a love that had yet to be grown and persevered through, weaknesses I was sure to discover, multiple moves in the military.  The time-honored walk-down-the-aisle was imprinting on my heart the sobering significance these vows I was about to take were to have in my life.

Nevertheless, as we turned the corner and the saber-bearers lifted high their weapons to welcome me down the aisle, I looked straight into his face.  I saw the beauty that he beheld in me and I perceived the wonder that had brought us to this point.  His eyes kept me tied to him and he drew me hither with his love.  The future was so unknown and our heritage together had yet to be fashioned, yet this I knew with full certainty:

                “His mouth is most sweet,

                and he is altogether desirable.

                This is my beloved, and this is my friend.”

                                ~ Song of Solomon 5:16

(Epilogue to come....)