When it takes place next year, when we find the right plans, this will be my second wedding.
My Web maestro Elle tells me that when you Google my name, the most popular suggested searches include “Jaimee Rose Wedding” and “Jaimee Rose Divorce.”
Oh ye searchers of “Jaimee Rose Divorce,” this time, I’m older, wiser, and not spending $739 on a cake. Wedding #1 was at the St. Regis, and there were only 50 guests.
That’s not why there was a divorce, though. It was a very good cake.
He was also a wonderful man. We were high school sweethearts who discovered that we had little else in common as adults. We were married for two and a half years.
These are the things that friends say to me now:
“You get a second wedding!” “Another dress!” “Another bouquet!” “I can’t wait to see the pictures!” “You’re going to go nuts with this wedding!”
No. I am not.
This one will be small – even smaller than the first. Our parents. My Grandpa. Or maybe even just us, in Italy. Maybe in the late spring.
I have my eye on a dress – nontraditional, something a little like the one above.
More than anything else, I have my heart set on finding a feeling.
It’s a different way to plan a wedding — a list of memories I want to make, instead of centerpieces to buy.
In my mind, there is a Beach Boys song and Tyson is smiling a particular way that happens only a couple times each year. His eyes are tight on mine. He’s doing a funny shuffle dance with his feet. His cheeks are pink and puffed from the deep grin.
There are people swirling around us, and I can feel their love.