With Greg's initial trip such a rounding success, my parents knew I would be determined to make the trek up north as well. I planned out the drive and was set to go, when they surprised me with plane tickets. The kind gesture wasn't expected, but I was very grateful. It would make more time to actually spend with Greg. (And at the time, though I didn't know it, they were aware of the importance of this trip.) They dropped me off at Salt Lake City International one night in mid-February.
I can not begin to tell you the mind-!@#$ that the airport played with me over the next two days. In a nut-shell, it went like this:
Day 1: Dropped off by parents at airport. Because my parents bought the tickets at the last second, my boarding pass was marked for “extra inspection”, so I had to go through some heavy screening. Ever experienced that check? They do everything but probe your ass. Got to gate in preparation for making the flight down to Vegas. From there I’d be heading to Calgary. Only... the weather wherever my Vegas plane was coming from was a mess, and the flight’s arrival was delayed. I soon realized that my connecting flight to Calgary would be taking off before we could even leave Utah. I couldn’t go to Vegas. Thank GOODNESS we figured out the dilemma before they sent me that direction anyway. I had the lady at the desk book me onto a direct Calgary flight for the next morning. She even gave me a window seat. So nice of her. I called my parents, needing them to come get me. There was no answer at my parents' home phone or the cell numbers I had for them. Next I tried my brother, but he was too busy to come and get me. I was getting a tad scared at this point. Ended up getting rescued by my friend, Sherry, and her fiance’. They are still my heroes to this day!! Really.
Day 2: The next morning my dad dropped me off at the airport… again! I walked up to the check-in counter only to find out that the lady the night before hadn’t CONFIRMED my flight! I didn’t have my nice little window seat. I had nothing. They gave me a “walk on” pass and said I could join the flight if someone didn’t show up and a seat was available. After another security-flagged over-check (I’m soooo a terrorist), I made it over to the gate. Then I sat and waited--- and waited.
The flight filled up and took off without me. There I sat. Still. The airline gave me another “pass” for the next flight. No guarantee there either. So I waited a few more hours. Sat and sat and sat. Then the next plane arrived, filled up and took off again. Without me. I tried one more “wait” (another few hours wasted) and then finally the airline said they could give me a guaranteed seat on a flight that evening. But it was six hours until take-off.
I called my dad again and he came to retrieved me. -sigh- I napped away the afternoon and then made a third trip to the airport. (Thanks, Daddy!!) Yet another intense search by security followed and at last I was at a gate and boarding the blessed plane!! I almost kissed the flight attendants as I walked on. It was about damn time! As I settled in to my seat, the horrible unknown evil known as "Customs" popped in to my head. What if, after all this hell, they didn't let me into Canada for some odd reason? AHHH!!! Luckily that went smoothly and I was soon retrieving my bag from the conveyor belt. I had made it! Hello, Canada.
I called my dad again and he came to retrieved me. -sigh- I napped away the afternoon and then made a third trip to the airport. (Thanks, Daddy!!) Yet another intense search by security followed and at last I was at a gate and boarding the blessed plane!! I almost kissed the flight attendants as I walked on. It was about damn time! As I settled in to my seat, the horrible unknown evil known as "Customs" popped in to my head. What if, after all this hell, they didn't let me into Canada for some odd reason? AHHH!!! Luckily that went smoothly and I was soon retrieving my bag from the conveyor belt. I had made it! Hello, Canada.
Then... I had to wait for Greg. He'd misjudged the time it would take to get to the airport to pick me up! I started thinking maybe he'd forgotten when at long last he arrived and swept me into a huge hug. Ahhh! I was with my sweetie!
A short while later we were safe and sound, relaxing on the couch at his mother’s house. I sat nervously waiting for his family to come home. What if they didn’t like me? What if I didn’t like them? What if I did stupid stuff and Greg realized he needed to run away screaming? AHHH!
All the worry was needless. Greg’s family is amazing. I must take a moment to gush, really. Such good-hearted, kind, welcoming people with just the right amount of sass tossed in to keep them interesting. (I felt right at home.) Gwen, Greg’s mother is the most wonderful, huggable, lovable woman. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfectly lovely mother-in-law. Really. I love her so much and I miss her now that my adventure as part of her family is over. Tears come to my eyes as I sit here typing, knowing that she’s no longer mine. -sigh- Greg’s brothers were great, too. Mark was quiet, but seemed very nice. And Blair, though out-spoken and periodically abrasive (as I’d been warned he’d be) was still likable and enjoyable to be around. And the kids. The KIDS! From the moment I met them, they were already calling me “Auntie Lindsie”. I loved them from the start. Again, its heart-breaking to think they were taken away from me, that I play no role in their lives now.
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| See? Maple Leaf! So cute. |
In any case, my worries about getting along with Greg’s family quickly vanished once I realized they were awesome. My trip became an amazing adventure full of Canadian experiences. Strange money, commercial signs punctuated with maple leaves, sideways street lights… I soaked it all up like a sponge. It was great! Mostly because through all the new sites, I had my best friend at my side. My Geggy.
February 25, 2005. We toured Greg’s college campus that day. Large buildings at the top of a steep cliff overlooking a ravine/river below. A pretty bridge in the distance. It was beautiful! Greg showed me a path at the rear of the property that wound around and around until we finally reached a small bench overlooking the river. We stood there hugging and kissing. Saying all the sappy, lovey stuff that couples do. Taking in the romantic atmosphere. As I held Greg in my arms, I suddenly became very aware of his heart-beat. It was racing a mile a minute. How odd. How strange. Why wo… Wait a second!
Greg was whispering in my ear. How much his family loved me already. How happy they were that we had found each other. Then he started talking about how much he liked my family. And how he knew they liked him, too.
You can sense that?, I asked him.
Well, your dad told me! When… when I called him and asked permission to marry you.
And then the world stood still.
Everything was a blur after that. Really. I have faint memories of him saying sweet, perfect things. Guiding me to the nearby bench, slipping a ring on my finger. I think I said ‘Yes!’ somewhere along the way and then suddenly we were engaged. (Greg later joked that if I'd said 'no', he'd have thrown himself off the cliff. lol)
The rest of the trip passed in a whirlwind. I met grandparents and other friends and family. I faintly remember the story of his brothers making the long drive (a few hours each direction) to retrieve the ring the night before Greg’s our engagement. Apparently he’d carried it with him in his pocket for weeks before my arrival and the one time he put it safely away, he forgot to bring it for his planned proposal. So cute that my future brother-in-laws saved the day. Didn’t I tell you they were great?
Getting home was another adventure. I was late arriving at the airport. Almost didn’t make it through Customs in time. Luckily, the staff at the airport were finding those of us with flights leaving the soonest, and whisking us to a separate line where we didn’t have to wait. Even with that assist, I had to sprint to the far end of the airport in order to make my plane. BARELY got there. And I promptly made use of the barf bag in the pouch on the back of the seat in front of me, too. Bet you thought those were there just for looks, eh? Not so much. It’s the one and only time I’ve ever vomited during a flight. Luckily, some ginger ale settled my stomach, and since there was no one sitting beside me, I was able to lay down across the seats for the flight home. My first visit to Canada was a like a glorious moment in time sandwiched between to hell fests.
And then began another wait for more time with Greg. I’d spent a grand total of two weeks with him at this point and there was a ring on my finger. Granted, we about put AT&T in the poor house with all the minutes we racked up on my bill. Thank goodness for that $9.99 plan. AT&T had discontinued it by this time, but since I had already signed up for it, my plan was grandfathered in and still gave us the great deal that allowed us to talk for between 2-6 hours each day. We took our phones everywhere we went, happily chatting as we carried out the errands and tasks that required our attention each day. It was as if we were there together instead of 900 miles apart. Almost. We chatted about our plans for the future. Greg updated me on his progress with the Fiance’ Visa paperwork. I asked his opinion on adopting a dachshund I had recently heard about through a gal at work and he said “Do it!”
Greg came down for a visit in Spring and we planned for Engagement photos to be taken during this time. My friend, Heather, is a professional photographer and she took great care of us. Our photos were lovely, even as much as I hate photographs of myself. We chose a wedding date that corresponded with a large reunion his family had planned for summer. The projected time frame for the Greg’s Visa was well before the reunion so the date seemed perfection.
Chloe, the slightly psychotic dachshund I had recently rescued, was a fan of Greg from the beginning. She skiddle-skaddled around his feet and wagged her tail to no end. It was so cute that I almost forgot that she was normally a bit twitchy and insane.
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| Chloe: Psychotically Adorable |
His second visit to Salt Lake ended all too quickly and I was soon alone again. I tried to keep myself distracted by getting my trailer in order. Making space for Greg’s future things. I also found great comfort in working in my garden. Choosing flowers for my beds each spring was one of my favorite parts of the year.
One weekend, I headed to the local Walmart to pick up a few final plants for my yard. I spent quite some time wandering around the different areas of the store, both inside as well as in the garden center. Of course the greenhouse area was the most enjoyable thanks to the atmosphere all the pretty blooms created. I probably smelled every rose they had. So much fun! Then, at the very end, I gathered up the flowers I’d decided to take with me and headed for my car. Half way across the parking lot I looked down at my hand.
My ring was gone.
I spent hours combing the store in search of my precious ring. After all, Greg had chosen it out himself and it was all I had of him until he could finally join me for keeps. How could I have lost my ring? I was horrified. Miserable. When I finally realized I’d never find it at the store, I called him and begged for forgiveness. I can’t begin to express how sweet and loving and understand he was about the whole situation. Imagine the most perfectly forgiving response a man could give a woman in this situation, add some “awesome” to it, and that’s what Greg provided for me in my moment of misery. Really.
A few days later, after I’d moped good and hard, I decided I might as well go ahead and plant the stupid flowers I’d purchased at the store. After all, what good is the loss of my pretty ring, if I let my plants all die and end up with boring flower beds anyway? I began to sort the packs for the various areas I intended to place them when something sparkly caught my eye. Miracle of miracles! My ring was in one of the plants!! I had bought the very flower it had fallen in to. OH. MY. GOSH!! I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t quite imagine what lucky circumstance that was. Calling Greg to tell him I’d found my beloved ring was one of the most enjoyable and relief-causing phone calls I’ve ever had to make. Wow!! Disaster averted!
Greg continued to work on our Fiance Visa as our July 27, 2005 wedding date approached. He completed his year at the University of Lethbridge and sold the home he’d purchased while living there. I had bridal photos taken in preparation for the small reception my parents were hosting at their home that night and arranged for the party. I had always wanted a small party, so I didn’t plan for much. My mom seemed to be having a lot of fun with the planning, though so I happily let her plan out a large spread of food and she provided many extra decorations as well. It was beautiful, really, the things we’d found for décor.
A few weeks before the big date, Greg called me. I could tell he was upset and he finally admitted to me that the Visa hadn’t come through yet and we weren’t going to be able to get married on our July 27th date. It was such a sad feeling. We agreed that we should still have the reception, since it was the one time his family would all be gathered together. We’d just have to get married later once the Visa was finalized. And that’s just what we did. Our party in July was beautiful. Pictures were taken, family gathered to celebrate, friends came by and congratulated us. The only difference was that instead of taking off to Orlando for our Honeymoon after the night was at a close, Greg got in a car and drove home with his family. So frustrating! It was another two months before our Visa finally got approved and he was able to come down for keeps. Once again I braved the airport (with yet another intense screening! Ugh!), but I got on the plane on the first try and the trip was without incident. Thank. Goodness! We had a small reception at Greg’s mother’s home, packed up the items he was bringing down with him, and off we went. The drive down was long, but seemed to go by quickly thanks to good company. Greg kept me entertained by pointing out all the places he’s stopped to pee on past trips. (He’s peed nearly everywhere between Calgary and Salt Lake City. Just sayin’!)
September 17, 2005 was the magical day! We married in the Logan Temple, a favorite of Greg’s. The day was perfection. After all, we were able to get married, take a few pictures, have one last lunch with our families, and then we were off for our small honeymoon! No reception to distract or delay us. The best advice I could ever give to someone getting married would be to have the party ahead of time if there is any way possible. Your wedding day is amazing when you can rush off together right away instead of sticking around to entertain visitors for a few hours. Bliss!!
I won’t go into details, when it comes to the honeymoon. Seriously now, what kind of site do you think this is!? Naughty reader! ;) I will say, however, that there was never EVER a time when Greg and I were together intimately that I suspected he might not be down with the “innie” and be hankering for an “outie”. He either enjoyed our time together as much as I did, or he is an actor worthy of major motion picture accolades. Many of you have seen his new Video Blogs. You be the judge on which of these is the case. (The camera did always love him!)
A month after the ceremony, we finally used the originally purchased plane tickets that were supposed to be our July honeymoon trip. Off to Orlando, Florida we went to see my grandparents. That was a nice trip. It turned out to be the last time I was able to see my Grandma, so I’m extra grateful that we went there. We visited with my family, and of course we ran around like small children. All over Disney World (Greg’s fav) and Sea World (My fav!). We were able to hit each park twice while we were there. I love Orlando and always dreamed of living there so I was happy as a clam.
After that trip, we returned to real life again. Greg worked hard to be a good little house wife for me for the remainder of that first year together. You see, he didn’t have his work Visa yet, so he couldn’t get a job. We lived off of my income alone for months before the government finally said “Okay, okay. You can find gainful employment!” Thank goodness! We got by okay on my money, but it was comforting to have the duel income at last.
And there we were. A newlywed couple all settled in a life together. No more phone marathons. No more heart ache. We had each other for keeps. Perfectly happy in our perfect little home with our cute kitties and dog.
Awwww!
