My wife and I spent a decent amount of time agonizing over our wedding song. We considered a lot of different options, in the weeks and months before the big day, and we narrowed down the search to a few, viable choices. Some of the choices were songs that were popular at the time, but had little chance of standing the test of time. Others were classics that we knew we would be able to hear, from time to time, over the decades. Narrowing the list down to the finalists was quite the process. And, while I don’t know whether or not other engaged couples do this same thing, or whether or not they are as painstaking as we were, I can tell you that I am absolutely certain that we made the right choice on the song that we picked.
Our wedding song, the song that we first danced to as a married couple, is Wonderful Tonight, by Eric Clapton.
And, it wasn’t long after that, we made a decision, a promise to each other; we decided that we were going to make it our practice to always dance with each other when that song comes on.
We’ve been married for nineteen years, and during that time, we have heard our wedding song play in our house, and in our cars, and in public places of all sorts, and we have, every time that it’s been practical to do so, danced to that song. Most recently, my wife and I heard the song last weekend, playing on the stereo in our kitchen, and we danced in between the stove and the kitchen sink.
Jennie’s shorter than I am, so our close slow dancing usually involves me leaning over to rest the side of my head against hers, cheek to cheek. This gives me the coveted opportunity to sing the lyrics of the song in her ear. We sway, back and forth, and I hold her close inside my arms. It’s cliched to say that something is magical, but when that song comes on, and we look at each other, and we move into each other’s embrace, it really is a magical moment.
When it happens, EVERY time it happens, it occurs to me that I get an opportunity to tell the rest of the world “NO!”, if only for a few minutes, while I turn to my wife and say “YES!”
* * *
My Junior and Senior Prom, and my wife’s Junior and Senior Prom were in the years 1993, 1994, 1995, and 1996. For four years in a row, we had proms to attend.
In 1993, when I was a junior in high school, my wife and I had yet to formally meet, so my junior prom is rarely discussed. I can say that the dance happened at the Union Station in South Bend, and I wore a baby-blue tuxedo (don’t ask; I don’t want to talk about it).
In 1994, when I was a senior, my wife and I had just started dating a few weeks prior to my Senior Prom. What this unfortunately meant for us, since I’d already asked a female friend of mine to accompany me, was that we did not go together to my Senior Prom. For all of the honor that I claimed to be defending by not trading in my first choice when I had a legitimate reason to do so, my senior prom was miserable and she was a miserable date (I can say that because I think there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that she’s reading this). The dance occurred at the Heritage Center in St. Joe.
In 1995, during my wife’s junior year of high school, she asked me to go with her to her Junior Prom because, even though we weren’t dating at that particular time (for more on that story, head HERE), she considered me the best option for a date. It ended up being the impetus for us to resume our dating relationship. The dance happened at the clubhouse of the Orchard Hills Country Club, in our hometown. It’s the only prom for which I remember the theme: “A Dream Is Like A River”. We still have the votive candle holders that were given out as gifts at the dance. Every time I think about that prom, Garth Brooks is singing in the back of my mind.
In 1996, during my wife’s senior year, I was the presumptive choice to be her date to her Senior Prom. The dance happened at the Morris Performing Arts Center in downtown South Bend, and I will never forget the dress that she wore that evening, partly because she’d made the dress from scratch, and partly because of how amazing she looked in it. That night was also special because Jennie’s father let me take Jennie in his Pontiac convertible –> such a sweet car.
* * *
When Jennie and I first started dating, she was a country girl, which is to say that she’d grown up on a farm, and she listened to country music, and she raised animals to sell at the county fair. It was part of what I thought was so adorable about her, early on.
One of the things that went along with being a country music fan in the 1990s was line dancing.
And, as if I was having to work my way through one of many rites of passage as the boy wanting to be her boyfriend, I was pulled into, on at least a couple of occasions, line dancing in her driveway.
The way that I remember it, we were –she and I– in the presence of several other couples in the driveway of her home. Most of these other couples were relatives or friends of the family, so that Jennie and I were two of the youngest people present. And her dad would set up a stereo so that we could dance to the country hits of the 1990s –> Pickup Man and Watermelon Crawl and Fishin’ in the Dark and Friends in Low Places and Boot Scootin’ Boogy.
If you think regular dancing is rough, country line dancing is worse, especially when you are a gangly teenage boy who barely controlled his own appendages on the best of days. It was all, “put your right foot here and your left foot there while you are moving to the left and then clap your hands in front of you and then clap them behind you and then twirl around and then move back to the left while putting your…” Way too much for me to handle.
In fact, maybe that was the point; maybe the entire experience was an attempt to see how I would handle social embarrassment.
Those were not my most graceful moments, but even back then, we were dancing together.
* * *
Jennie and I have approximately three swing dance lessons under our shared belt.
We thought it would be very cool if we learned how to swing dance for our wedding reception. We were going to wow our attendees with moves that would impress the Brian Setzer Orchestra and the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies.
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
We took our lessons at The BOB in downtown Grand Rapids, and it became clear after only three lessons that neither of us had the coordination to be able to pull of what it was that the teacher was trying to teach us in those classes.
Nevertheless, spending the time with her, trying to do my best to impress her, laughing at what we couldn’t do and trying to accomplish something together –> my best memories of all time have been memories like these with Jennie –> trying and laughing and failing and loving each other anyway.
I guess, in the end, I will always prefer to listen to swing music, as opposed to dancing to it.
I’d like to think that we still wowed our guests at our wedding reception, but for other reasons.
* * *
We’ve had opportunities to dance at wedding receptions and at high school dances and at balls and galas and formals; it would be hard to estimate how many times Jennie and I have danced together. I’m sure the number is probably higher than I would even guess it to be.
Something truly amazing has occurred to me as I’ve thought of all of this dancing.
I’m still excited to dance with my wife. After all of these years, I’ve never gotten tired of it, and I don’t expect that I am ever going to turn down the chance to slow dance with my wife.
It Occurred To Me Today 