I gave myself too much leeway the last nine months. I became so wrapped up in minute by minute minutia I lost focus. Perhaps it was the rush of last year post wedding. We experienced a fairytale and returned to New York to a whirlwind of speeding time that consisted of business trips, immigration interviews, a new job, and an apartment and borough move. Time was rushing, racing, flying, and then the world came to a screeching halt on March 13 and all the balls I was juggling remained suspended in the air, and I slowly raised my head to examine them.
Then three months of quarantine passed, and there was no excuse not to write. But though the three months stretched, they also flew, and days turned into weeks and no thoughts made their way out of my head and onto paper. Time stood still and there was nowhere to go, but the writing muscles became atrophied and the motivation faded.
“Regular life” started to pick back up and before I knew it, it was July 3rd. Hamilton came out on Disney Plus and I streamed it along with millions of others. The music spoke to me through its genius, poignancy, humor, and truth. One song’s chorus chanted “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” And I was jolted awake. We are all running out of time, each minute, each day. Why have I let this strange time in history push me to sleep?
So I thought, what should I write about? I took the first step and recognized I have no time, I’ve got to write again - but I doubted I had anything valid to share.
But I do, if I continue to notice the small things.
Murat and I wanted to take a walk in Brooklyn yesterday, and being new to the neighborhood and the borough I Googled where to go. I found the Brooklyn Heights Promenade and thousands of users had shared their reviews touting the loveliness of the park. One review stopped me in my tracks and stayed with me all day. They wrote, “It remind me holding my woman,s hand making me feel so important.” The purity of this statement made me cry. My heart swelled thinking about this person, and the feelings this place stirred in them.
Murat and I stepped out into the 90 degree heat and began walking the promenade. We found stunning views and a walk we had no idea existed so close to our new neighborhood. As we turned around and began to head back, I took Murat’s hand. He gave me an audible, ‘aww’ and a firm squeeze. I too, felt important, and I think so did he. My tears flickered again, with the human privilege of feeling important and reciprocating that feeling to someone I love.
My wedding website says that I have 31 days until the big day. I’ve never particularly liked countdowns. They make me feel as though I am ticking my life away, making me forget that it’s not just the milestones in life that matter, but the moments in between. I dislike putting so much weight onto one day, event, or holiday. Countdowns make them so exceptionally fleeting, they become immediately replaced with nostalgia and a framed photograph or Facebook memory.
wrapping paper that covered the gifts, now just a memory of a wonderful day. There is no reason why the wedding shouldn’t feel like this multiplied tenfold, and much of me is consumed by wanting to say “SLOW DOWN, I’m not ready for the planning and anticipation to be over!” But time is never listening.
Philosophizing aside, I am beyond excited. Seeing all the plans, the Pinterest boards, the screenshots, the dog eared pages of magazines coming to life is the stuff of little girls’ dreams. And I’m blessed that I’ve been indulged by my partner and my parents to have my dream wedding on the island of Crete. It is not the easiest place for guests to get to, its distance meant my parents could not join me for walk throughs with wedding coordinators, and compromises have been made to allow for cultural differences and logistical necessities. But even from afar, there has been a lot of joy in planning, and I hope everyone feels just as indulged as I in 31 days’ time.
had a special day, but being called by a number at City Hall like you are at a deli waiting for a pound of ham wasn’t the ‘wedding’ we’d always dreamed of, and it was important to us to have our family and friends celebrate in our union and love.
I keep picturing September 21st over and over in my head, though I hope to let most expectations go on the big day and just celebrate and enjoy whatever unexpected or crazy thing happens. If DJ Nikos misses a few ‘must-plays,’ or the flowers don’t turn out Pinterest perfect, or the meltems in Crete is so strong my hair comes undone and tangled, it won’t matter. I’m ready to soak in the fact that Murat and I put up with years of long distance, and that in turn, my family and friends are willing to travel long distance to rejoice in our long-awaited wedding.
Reflecting on my experiences with the world, my neighborhood, and my home.