Rama and I got engaged on May 1, 2005. We were on vacation in Portland, celebrating our 2-year anniversary. I had no idea that he’d be proposing to me that weekend, that I’d come home a bride-to-be. I was just happy to have made it as far as we had. I was in love.
My grandma was the first to hear the news. May 2nd was her birthday, so we called her in the Philippines from our hotel room. She was elated. “Are you saying this just because it’s my birthday?”
When I assured Grandma that it wasn’t a practical joke, that we were, in fact, getting married, she asked when the wedding would be. “I don’t know yet.”
She replied: “Make it June.”
“This June?” I exclaimed. “That’s next month!”
Let’s Scram The Kennedy School makes hotel rooms out of old class rooms. We love the chalkboards.
I thought getting engaged would relieve all kinds of pressure from my family, but I was wrong. We just got a new kind of pressure. We had been getting gentle shoves to get married, but now we were getting orders to have babies right away. Babies? We hadn’t even picked a date, yet! It was all overwhelming.
I’ve been in over a dozen weddings throughout my life, as a flower girl, bridesmaid and maid of honor, but nothing could have prepared me for being a bride. The only thing I knew for sure was I did not want to be a bridezilla. So I read a lot, I talked a lot, cried a lot and prayed a lot.
It saved me.
Throughout the planning, I received a lot of advice from a lot of people. Some of it helped. Some didn’t. What helped me the most, though, was remembering that the decision making and silly bickering, the nervous laughs and hopeful tears, the grand ideas and the doubtful reservations all came from the same place—a place of love. While our parents, our family and our friends may not have had the same vision for the wedding, we all shared a genuine affection for one another. I knew we were off to a good start.