They say girls dream about their wedding day from a young age.
I wasn’t one of those girls.
If I wore a dress, I usually rocked a pair of shorts under it. And in my mind, princess referenced ladies like Belle or Diana, not the cut of a diamond.
As I got older and my love for party planning and design grew along with my collection of bridesmaid dresses, I fielded a lot of comments assuming my future wedding to a not yet in the picture groom was already planned.
Truth is, the only time I ever thought about a wedding day was when I was in church. Now you may assume I take my religion seriously, and I do, but I must admit that my reasons for contemplating future wedding plans while attending Sunday mass over the years was pretty selfish.
You see, I planned on getting married in the same church I received all of my sacraments in. The same place that in 4th grade I confessed my sins for the times “I was maybe being mean to my sister or might have lied to my mom.”
There was just one problem. It had blue carpet.
Bright Cubbie blue carpet.
At one point I even got crazy enough to mention the idea of getting married (still no groom in the picture) at nearby St. Agnes. It had burgundy carpet and it was technically the parish in which we now lived. And burgundy carpet was better than blue, right? Not according to my mother and her mother. Wrong. Way wrong.
I thought about it over the years as awesome priest after awesome priest got transferred out of our home church to go off and witness the weddings of other lucky brides. Each time, I remember thinking I’d probably end up with a priest who knew nothing about me, especially since I no longer lived in Springfield.
And once I moved to Chicago, found an amazing parish and eventually met the man who would stand up next to me for our wedding day, I considered how we could swing getting married at Old St. Pats now that we were living in Florida.
God has a way of saying “I told you so” if you finally allow yourself to listen. When Matt and I decided to get married last year, there was no doubt in my mind where we’d have our ceremony. I let go of any assumptions I had about the way my church should look or feel or by whom the mass would be led. And when I did, I realized my home parish had everything I could ever look for in a church. It had family and friends who loved and supported us. It had people who cared enough about us as a couple to speak, sing, witness and pray. It had an awesome priest who took the time to get to know us and offered realistic and comforting advice for our upcoming marriage. It had history. Years of celebrations and sacraments.
And it had beautiful tile where the blue carpet once was. A perk I can only assume was given to us for waiting until our thirties to get married.
Our wedding ceremony was my favorite part of the wedding day, even though I lost it multiple times. Here are just a few pictures from our talented Wright Photographs to help illustrate the love and support we received.
We hosted our first Florida Thanksgiving
