Wedding Roadblocks
Estimated reading time: 16 minutes, 1 second
Jan’s Parents Oppose
Our Marriage Plans
“Why would those people want to come to NJ for your wedding,” someone asked?” It felt like this question had been dropped like a live grenade onto the table while we dined with Jan’s family. “It is a long trip, and I am sure they do not understand what is involved in a Jewish wedding.”
When I heard those words, my stomach felt like it was about to regurgitate the meal. I took a deep breath and waited for Jan to speak.
After what seemed like an hour but was only a few minutes, Jan spoke.
“They are our friends and neighbors,” she said. “Many of them are people that Richard has worked with over the last three years. They want to be there to help us celebrate the next phase of our lives.”
Tension filled all of the space on the dining table.
“If you married in Brooklyn, I am not sure many people from Jersey would want to attend.”
Even a good joke could not reduce the tension and stress in the room.
We can worry about that once we find a Rabbi willing to marry them,” Jan’s father said.
Jan responded, “There must be someone who will marry us?”
You have met with five excellent Rabbis, and each said no,” Jan’s Mother said. “We can try a few more, but it does not look positive.”
I remain concerned that you are planning to marry, and Richard does not have a job,” her father said.
He is applying for jobs, and he will have one soon,” Jan said. “His Dad had planned to wait until he had a job paying enough to support his wife, but when he met Richard’s mother, love was all that mattered.”
“Love does not pay the bills,” said her father emphatically.
I reached for Jan’s hand, but she was talking with her hands like I did. I placed my hand on her thigh and squeezed as I wanted her to know I loved her and was there for her.
Jan turned to me and smiled. She said emphatically, “Let’s clean up and have dessert as Richard and I need to get home soon.”
Fatherly Advice
Dad, can we take a walk while Jan finishes her shower,” I asked my father. The previous night we had told my parents that Jan and I were getting married. My entire family was very excited and supportive. Both Jan and I had talked before falling asleep about how pleased we were that my family had welcomed Jan into my family.
My Dad said yes and reached for his hat.
Growing up, I always enjoyed talking with him, but I learned that sometimes you had to wait for the answer to your question.
Turning left out of the driveway, we walked toward the small bayou near their house.
I am glad you and Mom were so accepting of Jan.”
My Dad nodded as we continued to walk.
Jan is Jewish. I am not sure if either of you were aware of that. Jan and I are OK that we will be an interfaith couple.”
As much as I was sure he had heard me, I wanted a response.
I hope all of you can travel to NJ for the wedding. It will be summer in the City. Having all of you with me will make it a special day.”
“Yes, we will be there.”
We walked in silence until we reached the bayou.
I do not know much about different faiths,” my Dad said. “But, if they believe in God, I do not see a problem.”
“Yes, she does!”
He stopped and looked at me as we turned around to walk back.
The most important thing is you love her, and Jan loves you. Your love will create a strong marriage that can cope with problems.”
I sighed. My Dad’s advice was better than I had expected. I had only wanted him to understand the difference in our faith traditions, and Dad not only supported that but gave me advice that made my heart flutter. All we need is love. And Jan and I have bushels of love.
We walked in silence back to the house.
As we walked up the driveway, Jan asked, “Where did you go?
A short walk and talk,” I responded.
I hugged Jan and kissed her. I was so happy; I started to weep.
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
