Saturday, September 17, 2011
The mystery of the missing marriage license: Happy 5 years.
Please ignore the fact that I'm woefully behind in our posts, and that our anniversary actually occurred at the beginning of the month rather than midway through September.
Fast forward three days. On the day of our wedding, there were many loose ends needing re-arranging, and knotting as is often the case on a wedding day. Boxes were full of miscellaneous nic nacs such as photos of our parents, and grandparents on their wedding day, a photo guest book, the wedding leash and other such trinkets. These boxes fraught with wedding delights were to be taken to "The Vineyard," our wedding location. One of these boxes, also included the marriage license that we were supposed to have signed by our officiant, Kyle's uncle, a baptist preacher. However, on the day of the wedding, the marriage license mysteriously disappeared. There were witnesses, numerous witnesses, placing the license in one of the boxes only moments before its departure to the vineyard. Whether it was stolen by a saboteur secretly trying to steal away the bride, or eaten by hungry Texas fire ants looking for their next meal, or it simply grew wings and flew into the humid, pinkish dusk, we will never know. Because despite desperate searching by family and friends, the certificate never again was to show its face. The mystery of the missing marriage license may forever continue to remain an X-file.
We're quite blessed however, that Kyle's uncle was quite understanding of the mishap. Previous to our wedding ceremony, I had no idea of the importance of that little paper. Kyle's uncle Keith although confused as to why we didn't have the license did not make a big deal of the matter. However, once I tried to ratify the situation by calling the downtown offices I was met with disbelief.
"Our marriage license has been lost, how can I get a new one?"
"Was it signed?"
"No, it was lost on the day of the wedding?"
"How did you get married?"
"I don't understand, we just got married."
"Well, it happened, we're married."
'You couldn't have gotten married without the license."
"We both said 'I do.' I'm pretty sure it happened."
Our exchange went on like this for sometime. There was a twinge of fear growing that our ceremony wouldn't actually count. The woman even stated that we'd have to state another date than the one that the ceremony had occurred on. However, with a little finagling, and much stubbornness on my part, it was all sorted out. In fact, it was as simple as reprinting the license with the word "copy" inconspicuously placed and as it turned out, we had been married after all.