On March 13, 1993 my new husband and I woke up in New Jersey
to a Winter Wonderland, or Nightmare.
You see, it was just over two months
since we were married in Virginia on January 9th. We lived in
Virginia and were married there in a small, intimate ceremony with just family,
but agreed to have a wedding reception in New Jersey where our families still
lived.
My parents, when initially planning the party with me,
suggested we have the reception in June or July after I graduated college. I
emphatically refused citing the “facts” that I may be employed by then and
could not possibly plan a party away from home at that time of the year. I went
on to argue that spring in New Jersey is a “perfect” time to have a wedding
reception – our wedding reception. I mean, March is the month when spring
begins, and spring in New Jersey is always warm and delightful with blooming
flowers and showcasing green-budded trees, right?!
As our reception date neared we started hearing weather
forecasts predicting a “sizable snow event”.
Seriously?!
So, as our date was upon us, most of the 129 people who sent
RSVPs that they’d come and celebrate our nuptials, started cancelling because
of the impending weather.
News updates started calling this snowstorm the “Storm of
the Century”.
On March 13th we awoke to our surroundings
covered in white with snow falling steadily. Our reception was a brunch and was
scheduled to start at 12 noon.
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| The Blizzard of 1993 Storm of the Century |
We showered and dressed in our wedding finery we had worn just
two months previously to take our vows.
Rugged trucks were warming in the drive as we held our fine
shoes and trudged in the snow in our boots.
The reception was decorated beautifully as the vendors did
their best to bring in the flowers. The country club’s chefs provided a tasty
spread, and the champagne, thankfully, was flowing.
As it turned out, only 29 people came to help celebrate our
marriage, including 2 of the five member band hired to perform, the bassist and
the pianist.
We danced, sang, laughed, admired the increasingly snow-covered
golf course, ate, drank, smiled, and cheered our way through the four hour
party.
Slowly revelers decided it was time to check the damage, dig
out their cars, and pray they could get home safely.
I was feeling low at several points throughout the day, angry with myself for not
listening to my mother, angry that my mother had been right (again), and so
relieved that my parents never once said, “We told you so.” They were gracious,
fabulous hosts, and loving parents.
Then, somebody said, “…at least you’re already married!”
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| Ryan and Candice Smith Wedding Picture January 9, 1993 |
So true.
Ryan and I have weathered a lot of storms since that 1993
Storm of the Century. Some were literal and others figurative but equally as
ferocious.
But we survived and continue to thrive.
So, as my native New Jersey prepares for another mid-March
storm that threatens to halt the world for a few days, I think about that
reception 24 years ago. I think about it not with guilt but with love and
affection.
I’m so very blessed that I’m already – and still - married.
Stay safe everyone!
