A Wedding Weekend

 


I wanted to share about the travel and wedding we enjoyed this past weekend.  I don't have any photos to share of the wedding couple because I don't have their permission to share, but I thought I'd tell you all about our adventures.

John and I did our level best to spoil this trip for ourselves before leaving home.  There were a lot of unanswered questions about what we were doing and when for the wedding itself and that was no fault of ours or the bride and groom's.  They knew no more than we did.  We let our anxieties get the best of us because we were traveling to a place we had never been, were unsure of how late we might be, and were on a tight time schedule.  We also were slated to perform certain duties, so we had the added pressure of making sure we'd packed all of John's music equipment we'd need, enough clothing for various functions, etc.  Then there was our anxiety over getting lost because...well we just do.  A missed road sign can change a trip entirely!  We are not graceful with such things as that and that causes us to both snip and snap.


Finally, on Thursday evening, I looked at John and said "Seriously!  We're just a bunch of scaredy cats!  Here we are with a lovely beach trip before us and all we've done is whine and moan and complain!  We need to right this!"  Then we prayed over the whole thing.  

John had printed out two different sets of directions.  They looked alike just at first but about halfway through, they were totally different.  As the main map reader and field guide, I decided to use ONE set of directions and call that good.  

We started off early enough on Friday morning.  It was downright chilly and I was glad we'd packed a jacket each, something the bride had assured us all we ought to do.  We hadn't meant to skip breakfast but we had to do so since we ran out of time (remember that tight schedule we had to keep?) and we thought we'd grab something on the way. Ha.

The directions we had, with the world's tiniest map as a photo, led us through the most backroad backroads. Y'all know how much I love a nice drive along backroads and this trip I had more than my fill of country lanes.  The only traffic we saw once we left the neighboring county seat was deer.  Seriously.  We had to slow two or three times for deer.  Not a single gas station, fast food spot, or a general store along the way until we'd been driving nearly 3 hours.  On the one hand, it was beautifully wooded or green meadows along the way.  Aside from watching hard for deer, we had plenty of time to chat and enjoy the views, but on the other, I kept pushing away the worry of whether or not we'd find cell service to call a tow truck if one was needed.

We finally stumbled upon a huge gas station with a Huddle House next door that was literally in the middle of nowhere.   It was a hugely busy station.  By this point, we'd also gotten lost three times but had managed to happen upon an alternative way that righted our wrongs.   

We entered the state of Alabama and never saw a single city. There are cities on the east side of Alabama but that's how back roads our driving directions were!  Not even small towns were found along the way.  The first city we came across after leaving home was in Florida.  It was here that things began to slip sideways.  The directions gave us road names to look for.  Some didn't exist.  They also instructed us of places we'd see as landmarks.  Uhm...No.  It was after we'd missed one road that didn't exist and passed another thinking it was the wrong roadway because that communications began to break down.  John wanted me to use my phone to get directions.  No signal.  And no idea where we were to put in as a starting address.  He then demanded I look at the picture of the map he'd printed.  The one that was about the size of a postcard in which road names and towns were so small I could tell only that there was a number or a town name but not what either one was.  

In desperation, I dug into the dash pocket and found an ancient roadmap of Florida and noted that we were a little further east of the town we wanted to go to but not too far off track.  This did not set well with John.  I gave him the option of going back to look for the non-existent road, which he insisted I'd missed somehow) or trusting the map and plowing ahead.  He plowed ahead muttering under his breath until I snapped at him.   We arrived an hour later at our hotel barely speaking to one another.

This is where we also begin another struggle.  For some reason, John insists that every single thing must go to the room in one trip.  Never mind that it took us four trips from the house to the car to load it, we can surely do it in one go once we arrive...AND he must park in the furthest spot from our room, not anywhere reasonably near it.  Sigh.  

Never mind.  We arrived.  We unloaded the car and got in the room.  We had a couple of hours to spare before we had to meet our friends for supper.  

I checked my phone to see how far the restaurant was from the motel.  It was about six miles...and they suggested it would take 20 minutes to get there.   Being familiar with beach town traffic, we left our room early.  John was convinced we were lost but we weren't at all.  We got to the restaurant, found a place to park, and walked right into friends once we entered the door, then I recognized the bride's sister from a photo sent to Brenda, another of our church members who'd come down for the festivities. We all connected and waited together. D and J didn't arrive until nearly 6:30.  They'd left the same motel we were staying at about 15 minutes behind us thinking they'd make it to the restaurant in 6 minutes.  It took them nearly 35 to drive the short distance.

The supper group was a mix of the groom's family, the bride's family, and several people from church.  The food was good and the service was great.  It was also loud and impossible to talk to anyone much but we tried.  We realized we were all like-minded people when the band entertaining the room played a song and the entire table broke out and sang right along.  The restaurant was on the harbor by and we saw a glorious sunset over the water.  

We weren't out late but never mind that.  It was dark when we returned to the hotel and the place was so hidden and the lights so low that we missed it.  Lost again.  We found our way back and ended our day. We went to bed and went right to sleep.

We were up extra early the next morning because the finches and sparrows about the motel were so loud.  It was 7am when we went out to sit on the patio.  It was so chilly and breezy but the sun was shining to beat the band.  We watched the fishing boats and dolphins and talked and talked over our coffee.  Then it was time to meet at the park for a pre-wedding barbecue.  John wanted to leave a bit early and I figured he was right to want to based on the traffic the day before.  We made good time getting to the park but waited 15 or 20 minutes to go through the admission line.

It was so chilly that it was downright cold at the pavilion where the barbecue was to take place.  John set up to play the music.  There was no electricity to plug into but fortunately, the sound system also ran on batteries. I offered to help with the food set-up but was told politely to enjoy myself.  So I helped John, spoke with guests as they arrived, and enjoyed the meal when it was served.  

The groom had mentioned that we could walk to the wedding venue from the motel and suggested we all do that since parking was $20 per car.  We returned to the motel and Jeff walked down to our room and pointed out the cabana where the wedding was to be.  Again, he asked if we could walk down to the venue and offered to help John carry the equipment.  We agreed it appeared pretty close and we could manage the walk. I looked the distance up on my phone and it said 1/10 of a mile.  That seemed like a cake walk. We went back to our rooms and John and I took a nap.  

We dressed early and waited for Jeff to come by the room to help carry things.  Donnie (the bride) had mentioned that the sand was very soft...she'd likened it to walking in snow as a kid, something I have no experience with.  She grew up in New York state so she has a better idea.  We walked down the boardwalk at the motel and stepped down and it was then I knew I was in deep trouble.  

The sand was very soft and very deep.  It covered my feet and went above my ankles.  Sand is a funny sort of thing.  It doesn't stay still. It ran out from under my arches and standing was completely impossible.  I came very close to falling right on my face.  I looked at the cabana that was just 1/10th of a mile up the beach and had severe misgivings.  I forged ahead.

It took nearly 20 minutes and countless stops to get my balance once more to walk that short distance.  John was completely winded since he was fully loaded with equipment bags and guitar.  I was holding on to him so tightly I'm sure he felt like a tug boat on the ocean.  One of Jeff's family members came hurrying towards us, grabbed the equipment and we floundered on.  I was so grateful to sit down.  The chair immediately sank deeper into the sand and I prayed I'd be able to get up graciously when it was time for me to lead the prayer. I'd abandoned my shoes when we stepped onto the beach and I never put them back on. Donny's sister-in-law who was also participating in the service, took one look at my bare feet and took her shoes off, too.

When I was asked to come forward Donnie's brother jumped up and helped me to the front to speak then led me back to my seat.  I was so grateful for him.

The wedding itself was lovely and short and sweet.  Donnie looked beautiful.  Jeff had dressed up and was amused that a group of young men on the street had catcalled and told him he looked "Cool!" Here's where I'd love to show you a picture of the bride and groom but I had no pockets on my dress and was carrying music equipment so I left my phone behind.  The photo I've seen online is the bride's own post and I won't borrow from it but it was lovely, truly lovely.  After the vows they had a foot washing ceremony and the groom eagerly reached out to kiss his bride when they were standing before the officiant once more but was told to 'Just wait! I'm not done yet..." so laughter mingled with the sweet tears.

I had decided that walking back via the street would be best and I headed off on my own, as Jeff had designated others to help John carry equipment.  I marched off to the stairs leading to the street and was about two-thirds of the way there when Donnie's brother-in-law came along grabbed my hand and said, "Let me help."  Thank the Lord that there are men who are still willing to help a woman. We came to the steps. I recalled that D had said there was a 'deep' step down.  Since I was going up, I lifted my foot, and it needed to go so high that my knee touched my chest and I still barely got my foot on that step.  I made it and started to rise.  I was pushing upward for all I was worth, was almost there...and then my knee gave out completely, and down I went.  I landed on the first step. Unfortunately, I couldn't get up off that step to get to the next one without starting over.  I sat there for a few minutes assessing what hurt and how badly.  I knew that regardless of injury at that moment, I had to somehow get myself up those dang steps. Still, the only way to do so was to start over again, from ground zero.  I realized I wasn't hurting badly...So I slid back to the ground, stood up and tried again.

Here's where the bride's brother came along and helped.  Between one pulling, my hoisting, and the other pushing I managed to get up that stupid step and then I thanked them very much, several times over.  I refused help going up the rest of the stairs.  John asked later if I was embarrassed but I told him I wasn't.  I credit about half of that to the two men who were helping me because neither of them made me feel anything except blessed to have them nearby.

I was prepared to walk the block and a half to our hotel but I was called back and when I turned around there was my husband sitting on a bench looking like someone had kicked all the stuffing out of him.  Apparently, the trek across the beach and up the stairs with the portion of music equipment he was carrying was too much.  I suspect he'd hurried when he saw me go down and he'd gone up the step entirely too quickly as well.  

Now if my own incident hadn't unsettled me seeing my poor husband completely undone did upset me.  I found on walking back that he was fine, but badly winded and they'd kindly offered to drive us back to the motel.

Sigh.  We were driven back to the motel and thanked everyone very nicely many times over but in our room we both looked at each other and then looked away, both feeling a little embarrassed at that point.  John soothed his woes by going out to the patio and calling his brother and I sat on the bed with my knee up and scrolled through videos while I waited for our supper to be delivered to the room.  There are just moments when you feel you are old, worn, and emotionally vulnerable because of it.  There were no words we could offer to make either of us feel better, so we kept quiet.  "Are you all right?" was the best we could manage and we both were all right.

I'm tender and sore but have managed with Tylenol for the aching.  I am walking normally and strongly when I walk, not limping, just sore.

Our trip home on Sunday was as pleasant as could be.  I scrapped all printed directions and pulled out the old folding map. "I've got this laid out. We will go from here  to I-10 and then we need to get on Highway 2 in Alabama which turns to 91 in Georgia and then we get on Hwy 19North and head home." We missed a turn twice, both times because of missing signage on the roads but the first time I glimpsed a sign on a parallel street and directed John to that road right way.  And the second time, we were in a town we're familiar with and so we found our way to where we needed to be and came home.

One of the things I enjoyed about this trip was how we talked and talked and talked.  We agreed once we were in Destin that we needed to stretch our wings more even if it's just going on day trips to unfamiliar places so we can 'practice' traveling without anxiety.  I told John that it was pointless to talk about what we wanted to do if we let our anxieties run wild over a trip that was a pure blessing from the beginning to the end and it was a blessing.  From the motel to the fellowship and the ease of travel, even the lack of serious injury when I fell we were blessed.

Here's our 'beach photo' for this year.  



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8 comments:

Erin said...

Wow! I’m so glad neither of you were badly hurt on the either the beach sand, or the stairs. I am in pretty good physical shape- backpacker weight lifter etc- and let me tell you I will do ANYTHING to avoid a walk in that soft beach sand! It’s brutal on the body and throws balance so far off… the bride underestimated that for sure, my goodness! My friend had a Destin beach wedding and to accommodate people on the sand, there was some pathway (rubbery? Been a while) so folks weren’t fighting the sand. I really like your idea of “practicing” to learn to deal with travel anxiety. I travel for work a lot and you do eventually learn to take “problems” in stride. At home you know your environment and you feel out-of-control away from home- you need to learn to sit with that.

I really enjoyed this post!

Anne said...

I can totally relate. You can plan down to the last dot and still things can go wrong. And the trip over....oh my! If you hadn't been on a pressing time schedule the trip would have been charming and amusing. You could regale people with having crossed an entire state and not seen one city. It would just be a funny story. And I'm an anxious person also so I get the diminishing calm.

As for falling down the steps, I have also noticed I simply don't have the balance and strength I had not that long ago. I swear it happened over night. Places I would have easily walked are now off limits.

This will get funnier in memory.

Mable said...

I think there are still lots of good men (people) ready to help someone in distress, although I forget that at times. We have ice 8 or 9 months a year and the few times I have been marooned because I was on ice and afraid to move for fear of falling, some young man has noticed and come over with an offer to help. I also know what you mean about needing to keep stretching yourselves to do small adventure trips. I find that if we don't do that, I start getting afraid of driving anyplace---even downtown! I hate turning into a fraidy cat.

terricheney said...

Erin, Thank you so much for commenting and making us both feel a whole lot better about ourselves. We are at that age where we have a little heavier fear of what aging will mean and we both were suffering from our vision of ourselves after that beach fiasco. To hear someone who is fit say they avoid that sort of sugar sand at all costs made a HUGE impact on both of us. After I told John what you'd said, we both confessed we'd been beating ourselves up. Knowing I can and have walked for miles on more stable ground, I still felt somewhat feeble after that beach.

And yes, I wondered why they couldn't have laid down some sort of temporary path at least the cabana site itself. The group we were with was composed of mostly over 50 and older folks with only a mere handful of younger folks.

Anne, Right at the moment, I am in a different place entirely. I would not call myself fit by any stretch of the imagination but I have increased considerably in strength over the past ten years. But as I said to Erin, my image of myself faltered after that beach incident. I do not have any pain at all from the episode. And in looking back the cramping I experienced the night after the fall probably had as much to do with my lack of hydration that day as it did with the strain on my muscles.

Mable, I met another good man yesterday who walked by as I was putting groceries in my car and he asked to lift the bag of cat food into the trunk. I told him I could manage but he was a helpful sort of man and said so could he and then he did it! I thanked him for his help and said "I'll have to tell my husband he's not the only gentleman around!" He went on his way laughing.

Mable said...

About your cat food good man. Sometimes we forget that letting someone help you makes them feel good, too. We all want to feel helpful, needed, like we contribute to the lives of others. When I was young and strong as the proverbial ox, I liked helping someone elderly by giving them an arm to hang on, or holding a baby on an airplane so the mother could have a minute alone in the bathroom.

Chari said...

About 10 years ago my son got married at the beach. It was basically just our families & a few friends. Now I am in my 60’s & I had trouble navigating the sand something awful. Plus I had on a very uncomfortable long dress that didn’t fit right & wedge type shoes I’ve never worn. And unfortunately I’m a big girl. Anyway, when we got to the quasi parking area it was a downhill slope full of potholes & I lost my balance & not only fell but rolled down the hill like a big tractor tire. I was all scraped up bleeding & I was mortified. We laugh about it now but I was so embarrassed meeting some of these people for the first time. It’s something the whole family including me find funny now but it sure wasn’t then. I have found that I am more clumsy now & if I get down on the floor I can’t get back up without having something to hoist myself up. Hard to believe when I was young I was an excellent ice skater & skinny as a rail. Old age ain’t for sissies. LOL

Tammy said...

I'm so glad you weren't physically injured (not much, anyway). I haven't been to the beach much, but am always surprised by how difficult it is to keep my balance on the sand.
When we travel, I am not a good navigator, even with a GPS. Greg used to deliver seed to the middle of nowhere in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Colorado, as well as Nebraska, using an atlas for maps, and he's very comfortable on those back roads. Not me. I want a bathroom and gas station every few miles. Lol.

terricheney said...

Mabel, I think you are quite right and we often miss the opportunity to let another feel they've helped us in some way. "I can do it myself" isn't a very nice answer when you stop and think of it..."Yes, please," and "Thank you" seem far more kind.

Oh Chari! Funny it might be now but I know it had to be horribly painful and upsetting at the time. I recall that the thing I kept repeating, mostly for my own benefit rather than that of the two men attempting to help me was "I can DO this! I can DO this!" I will add the funny part I left out of my story. I told the younger of the two when he asked how he might help, "Yes, I want you to push. I don't care what you touch, I'm not getting upset. Just push for all you're worth." lol He was very kind to do so and I thoroughly appreciated his help.

Tammy I don't mind riding back roads as a rule, but when I have a destination and a time frame it is a little daunting. However, we are still talking about how very lovely that trip down was, so I'm taking it as a moment when God commandeered Google maps and directed our paths. It brought us peace and pleasure.