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.
When do you finally concede defeat, walk away, or as the English say, “give it up as a bad job?” Murat and I are at a breaking point over something that we thought should be exceedingly simple.
We have encountered over six months of thwarted attempts to add Murat, my husband, to my bank account. As we are married and live together, it is hard to imagine something like this would be difficult.
When Murat arrived in the US, we wanted to add his name to my bank account, so he would have access to our funds and his own debit card in the US. I’m sure you are thinking, “well, that does not seem like an unusual or odd request.” However, the series of unfortunate events below is instead what our young, foolhardy selves have been subjected to, the bureaucratic process and red tape mountains aging us beyond our years…
And then…the Banker looks concerned. She asked Murat to input his information again, since the computer froze. He does, and she gives us the same pitiful look as just a moment ago. A fellow Banker comes over and asks ours if “she’s also having problems with the system. It seems like it’s down.” Our Banker asks us to wait while she tries to sort out what’s happening. When she returns, she hands Murat a water bottle for his troubles. He looks at her puzzled, and she informs him that she is “so sorry, but the systems have just gone down, and we can’t complete the steps needed to have him join my account.”
Do we cry? No. Although our stomachs churn and our hearts sink, we are not that surprised. We laugh in the face of adversity and look forward to using a new water bottle! Ahhh, the spoils of war.
Perhaps the Banker recognizes the deadness behind our eyes, and sees remnants of a once young, care-free couple. She offers to make an appointment with her for two days later, and assures us that upon return, she will help us complete the mission we set on so very long ago.
We will return. We will not give up. But I’m becoming slightly worried and convinced that there is a higher power doing whatever it can to stop us from completing this task. I can’t help but wonder, should we listen to the signs?
Reflecting on my experiences with the world, my neighborhood, and my home.