Ten years ago today, I wed Clifford Stanislas Geiselmayr in a little white church at the bottom of a mountain near Gatlinburg, Tennessee. It was probably the best weekend of my life and not just because I was marrying that silly South African I met the second day of orientation, but because I was surrounded by love, not just Clifford’s, but our families’ and our friends’ as well.
I wanted to write this amazing post dedicated to our day, divulging every detail, but words really can’t articulate what I want to say. When I think back to that weekend and our wedding day, my heart just fills – with what? I can’t really explain. It just fills…
I thank God for my now brother-in-law who documented the whole weekend because it was such a whirlwind that when it was all over, I couldn’t remember much at all. Thanks to him, I have proof that it wasn’t a dream. And pictures do say what words can’t convey.
So with that said, I’m going to give you the Cliffs Notes version of events. It’s the version that my Cliff would prefer anyway.
There was a rehearsal.
The rehearsal was short and to the point.
There was a rehearsal dinner. With a lamb roast. It was an all day affair.
Preparing the lamb.
The lamb roasting.
The lamb still roasting.
The lamb finally done.
And then this happened. The best wedding gift ever!!! My Stylist Extraordinaire gracing us with an acaplla version of Sweet Transvestite. Love this man!
The Big Day.
My amazing mother-in-law the morning of.
Chelle mentally preparing for her speech that night.
Two beautiful sisters preparing to decorate.
Getting Ready.
Getting ready to get ready.
Still have a phone glued to my ear.
Makeup check with my sister-in-law.
I’m a sucker for suspenders and he knows it.
My mom and grandmother and one of my nephews ready for the big event.
Best brother ever being my bitch for the day.
Stranded and forgotten on the mountain top. Saved by my father-in-law. Late to my own wedding.
Saved the day. Hauled ass up the mountain to grab my girls and me to take us to the church wearing his tux and some tennis shoes. Couldn’t ask for a better father-in-law.
He can wear a suit. The man can definitely wear a suit.
Walking down the aisle with my dad. One of my favorite photos.
The shortest ceremony in all Creation. (it was seriously like 10 minutes in all – there were witnesses and I’m sure my dad was looking at his watch, so he can probably verify it. It’s fine, the preacher had to get to a Tennessee game anyway. He had season tickets.)
Done. This is where the flute blasted This Will Be (An Everlasting Love). Yeah … the flute.
So it happened. The wedding party was thrilled …
10 minutes that have lasted 10 years.
I think we were in the middle of the road here … fake laughing or something?
Dudes being dudes.
My gorgeous sister-in-law.
Then we had the reception back at the lodge. The top floor for dancing, the main floor for food and the bottom floor for football. No matter your interest, there was something for you. So we ate, and we laughed, and mingled. Then it was time to cut the cake.
Now I’m going to pause for a second in my visual narrative because the cake cutting really shouldn’t be a Cliff Note.
It was time to cut the cake and feed each other. It’s tradition. Clifford was totally adorable. He was smiling so much and just so full of joy (which is not a thing ANYONE would EVER accuse my husband of being). He knew nothing about feeding the cake to each other. Every little thing about getting married was totally new to him. Bless his heart …
We cut the cake together and he carved out a small piece to feed me first. It was one of the sweetest moments I have ever shared with Cliff. Anyone that knows him, knows he’s not one for sentimentality, or feelings, or caring about anything in general really, but this moment he was so engaged and so happy. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. I ate the cake he fed me, smiling back at him adoringly. He looked down at me all starry eyed and glowing. Then he opened his mouth for me to feed him in return.
Now, I readily admit I am probably a very wretched wretched human being for what I was about to do, but I’d made a promise to myself when I was a girl that no matter who I married, this was going to happen. So know that if I’d married you, I would have done the same damn thing.
I took the cake and held it up to him. He leaned in … then I smashed it in his face. And then I smeared it all around after I smashed it. Clifford was STUNNED. He just looked at me with the most stricken expression I’d probably ever seen him wear. Everyone was laughing. After a moment, he laughed, too, but he kept giving me a look like what the hell? He never saw it coming. It was priceless. But because I love him, I leaned up and kissed him, getting it on my face, too.
So beautiful.
So sweet.
So naive.
I think the part that sealed it for me was when we were cleaning our faces in the bathroom. There was purple icing everywhere (I was going through a purple phase – don’t judge). As we were wiping things down, Clifford looked at me. He’s only given me sad puppy dog eyes once in my life and this was it. The saddest, most pathetic puppiest of puppy eyes were on me as he said, in his little South African accent, “Why would you do that to me? I don’t understand.” I just can’t with this one!
I started laughing all over again. He looked even more confused. I explained to him it’s a thing. It’s a tradition to feed the cake and shove it in their face. I watched his eyes as he was trying to process what I was saying and then as understanding set in. “Oh.” He began to laugh. Then he laughed harder.
Clifford, suddenly not laughing: “But wait, then why did I go first? Because I didn’t know…”
Me: “Because you didn’t know.”
Continuing on with the abridged version of events.
Chelle smoaking hot after giving a great speech.
Darewood being Darewood.
Our first and only dance. Ever.
My Stylist Extraordinaire once again demonstrating how he is seriously the coolest Cat I know.
Did I mention Stylist Extraordinaire may have had a DANCE OFF with my dad? …. Yeah. They did – and to all who know my dad, seriously, they did.
One word: Evidence
The only drink I had all day. I know, right? And there was an abundance of booze, let me tell you.
Dancing? Singing? I don’t know, but having one hell of a good time.
Did I mention my dad looking at his watch? Always with the watch.
It had finally come to an end. My last memory of our wedding reception was walking to Chelle’s cabin with my husband in tow. We were staying there for the night. As we peered through the sliding glass doors to the bottom level of the lodge. There was my father, Clifford’s father, and my uncle opening another bottle of wine. It was 3AM.
Just add my father-in-law to this exact scene and that was 3AM on my wedding night.
And that’s what happened ten years ago today. I love you Clifford Stanislas Geiselmayr.
That moment everyone should have.
