Holding Hands for 32 Years

From almost the exact moment that we became a couple, my husband has held my hand. If we are sitting in different chairs on either side of a table watching tv at night, he will reach across the table and hold out his hand for me to grasp. When we are out together in the car, and the traffic isn’t too bad, he will hold his hand out for me to take it for a few minutes. If we get out of the car to go into a restaurant or store (you know, in the before times), he will reach behind to clasp my hand in his as we cross the street or walk up a set of steps, even just one step from the driveway to the sidewalk of the shopping center. He always walks slightly ahead of me “to block traffic” which is a long-standing joke of his.

We had a very small wedding, in my Louisiana hometown, about 60 miles southeast of New Orleans, just family and a few very close friends of our parents. Our only non-relative friends present were people who participated in the wedding itself: two musician friends, my maid of honor. The size of the guest list had a little to do with money as neither of us had any, and my parents were paying for the flowers, invitations, stipends to the church and musicians, and a small reception at my parents’ house after. It also had to do with the fact that my husband and I grew up in small towns about 100 miles apart from one another. At the time of our wedding, my husband had just completed grad school in Virginia and I was working and living in Maryland. We didn’t want to burden his Virginia friends and my Maryland friends with a decision of whether to fly to Louisiana or not, especially since my hometown really had no hotel, motel, or inn. So, rather than hurt feelings by inviting some but not all, we just didn’t invite anyone outside of our families.

Neither of us minded how small the wedding and reception were, because for us, it was all about just the two of us starting our life together. Nothing else really mattered. I bought a tea-length dress off the rack on my lunch hour. We took the bus to a nearby mall for him to buy a new dress shirt and tie for a suit he already owned. But, I remember with great clarity all of the Mass, us holding hands during our vows, our hands together when we exchanged rings, and even holding hands during the homily, which I am sure was frowned upon in my very conservative hometown Catholic church.

A family friend from my hometown had become a photographer, and he took our wedding photos. Once when I was showing them to a friend here in Maryland, she remarked that Tom is holding my hand in every single photo, and often, he is holding my one hand with both of his hands. After the wedding, we took a picture under the giant oak tree in my parents’ yard, the breeze from the Mississippi blowing in our hair, and yep, he is holding my hand in both of his, while I hold my bouquet in the other. When our parents offered up toasts in my mom’s living room, we are each holding a glass of champagne, and he is again holding my free hand.

June 10, 1989, St. Patrick’s Catholic Church, Port Sulphur, LA

Once my friend mentioned it, I couldn’t help but look for it in all photos of us after that. Sure enough, in almost every photo we have taken celebrating our anniversary having dinner out over the years, he has reached across the table and taken my hand just before the photo is taken.

Mykonos, Rockville, MD – 26th anniversary

I read an article once that said you should hold hands with your partner when you are arguing, as it will remind both of you of the bond you share, rather than the difference that is causing the argument. Full disclosure: we do not do this, and we argue just like everyone else. But, still, I wonder if Tom’s frequent reaching for my hand is one of the reasons why we are happily together after 32 years, even after the 24/7 together time of the pandemic.

Our parents (two-handed clasp here!)

I have another friend who offered up a more cynical thought on this subject. She said that he is holding on to me, like a possession, to keep me from getting away. I laughed, but inside I was thinking, “Get away from what? I’m right where I want to be!”

During the pandemic when we didn’t go anywhere, and especially to the no-appointment hair salon we had been going to for decades that was always swarming with people and chairs so close together, Tom’s hair got longer and longer. He’s Italian on both sides, so it’s thick and wavy, and in it’s longer “style” it could qualify as what we used to call “big hair” back in the 1980s. He thinks he looks like Elvis; I think I like it better short and neat, but it’s his hair so I’m mostly mum on the subject. However, now that he is back in the office every day, he has told me about all the comments he is getting about his hair, mostly compliments on the longer length, and mostly FROM WOMEN he works with. I’m not really the jealous type, but . . . I’m not entirely crazy about this situation, lol. I feel like showing up to his work one day and having him walk me around the office while I hold his hand.

Tom’s maternal grandmother (still holding my hand!)

Today, June 10th, is our 32nd wedding anniversary. We started it the same way we do every day now that I’m no longer teaching, having coffee together. And, as you might have guessed, he did reach out and briefly hold my hand across the table before he left for work. We’ll have dinner out tomorrow night, ask a server to take our picture, and of course, we’ll be holding hands. Happy 32 to us!

Love Never Fails

It’s midday Sunday and I am just sitting down to write this week’s essay. It’s been a busy weekend. Friday night was the wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner for one of my colleagues, a third grade teacher at my school. Months ago, after announcing her engagement, she stopped me as I was coming in to school one morning and asked me to do one of the readings of scripture at her wedding. I am still surprised at how emotional I became when she asked me, immediately choking up and fighting back tears. I hugged her and said yes, of course, and thanked her for making me a part of her special day. Yesterday was the wedding and reception, and much of this morning was spent looking at wedding photos on Facebook posted by some of those in attendance.

I moved to the DC area from my home state of Louisiana in 1988, so by all accounts this should be my home now. But, with no extended family here, and not having grown up here or gone to school here, in a lot of ways I don’t feel “at home”. One of the times when this is most evident to me is when hearing about weddings. If we lived in Louisiana, we would be invited to weddings much more frequently than we are here in Maryland. We are friends with a lot of people, but often not close enough to get invited to weddings. It is understandable, with the high costs associated with even a modest wedding in this day and time, but nonetheless, when we are invited to a wedding, it is indeed a special occasion for us.

Our own wedding, June 10, 1989, was very small, mostly just family, a few of our own friends who mostly were involved in the wedding in some way, and a few friends of our parents. our rehearsal dinnerThe rehearsal dinner was at Tom’s family restaurant, Ardillo’s in Amite, Louisiana, founded by his grandfather Roy S. Ardillo, in 1947. My father-in-law continued to run it after the death of his siblings, until it closed in May of 2012.

at our receptionThe reception was at my parents’ house, with a table set up in the living room for the wedding cake made by a friend of my mom’s, the groom’s cake made by me, and finger foods that were made by my mom, some of her Sodality friends, and relatives. food at our receptionIt was in our minds, the perfect balance. We placed our focus on the wedding Mass, where we received the Sacrament of Matrimony. We had attended pre-Cana preparation at our then parish, St. Ann’s in Washington, DC, where we were both active in parish life while we dated and were engaged, Tom singing in the choir and me teaching religious education on Sunday mornings. planning our MassWe spent time picking out our readings, asking friends and family members to participate, and picking out music for the Mass. My good friend Ann was my maid of honor and Tom’s brother Jay was his best man. Our godparents brought up the gifts. My cousin, Penny, played the organ for the processional and recessional. our musiciansA mutual friend, Steve, who was instrumental in our spending time together early on, played guitar and sang, along with another friend, Kay, who cantored the Mass. Steve even wrote a song just for us and sang it after Communion. In every single way, to us, it was perfect.

This weekend’s wedding festivities were quite different by contrast. The bride has a large extended family, representing several different cultures. Both the bride and groom grew up here so they had many friends and family members to invite. The wedding Mass was held at the church parish of the school where we teach so there we all felt “at home”. children with coupleThe bride had invited her current 3rd grade class to the wedding, and they attended in full force, along with many of their parents, all smiles as they watched every move of their teacher on the altar. There was a certain energy to the wedding Mass that was almost palpable, brightly colored dresses and the sounds of young children filling the large church. The reception was equally lively, with a steel drum band playing during the cocktail hour and a DJ spinning popular hits in dance music after dinner. dancing the night awayFlower girls and junior bridesmaids danced the night away side by side with older relatives and middle-aged couples, ourselves included. The featured libation was chosen by the newly married couple, a rum punch, which was delicious and as colorful as every other detail of the two days of festivities. It was a beautiful celebration of the love of these two young people.

Knowing the bride stemmed from a large family, I was truly honored to take part in the ceremony. I was given the second reading from St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians. I know it well, having heard it many times at other weddings and as part of the readings in weekly Mass. I began practicing it as soon as she gave me a copy. Even though I serve as a Lector in my parish, Shrine of St. Jude’s in Rockville, as well as a Lector at some of our school Masses, I fully appreciated the significance of being asked to read at their wedding and wanted to perform this duty to the best of my ability. taking the reading to papal massOn September 23rd when I was getting ready for the Papal Mass, I folded it up and tucked it into my purse. I told the bride I would be taking her and her fiancé with me to the Papal Mass and then I would bring the Pope to their wedding Mass via the same piece of paper, which I did.

This reading from Corinthians is very powerful, and its power comes from the poetry of the words themselves. Studying and analyzing words is what I do for a living, teaching literature to middle school students, showing them how to break down passages of literature for its deeper meaning. Reading is one of the great joys of my life, and the more I focus on my own writing, the more I appreciate the beauty of words and the power that exists in truly well written prose. This piece of scripture is a fine example.

A reading from the first Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (12:31–13:8a)

Brothers and sisters:
Strive eagerly for the greatest spiritual gifts.
But I shall show you a still more excellent way.
If I speak in human and angelic tongues
but do not have love,
I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.
And if I have the gift of prophecy
and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge;
if I have all faith so as to move mountains,
but do not have love, I am nothing.
If I give away everything I own,
and if I hand my body over so that I may boast
but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It is not jealous, is not pompous,
it is not inflated, it is not rude,
it does not seek its own interests,
it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, 
it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
The word of the Lord.

Even though St. Paul was not talking to a young couple about to embark on a lifetime together, this popular New Testament reading is still listed as a choice for Catholic wedding Masses. The detailed “laundry list” of what love is, as well as what love is not, can be applied to the Christian community of Corinth, who had fallen away from the teachings of the Gospel, as easily as to a young man and a young woman trying to live a life of faith in today’s fast-paced world. It is difficult to find time for peace and quiet reflection in a world of instant communication via many different types of social media, evidenced by Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram images of this weekend’s wedding being posted while the events were still taking place. I myself fell victim to this increasingly more popular trend, holding handstaking a quick photo when the couple took their seats for the first reading. The way the groom so sweetly was holding the bride’s hand was so reminiscent of my favorite photo of our own wedding, a now-yellowed photo taken by a relative as we exited the church after the wedding, my new husband not only giving me his arm to walk me down the aisle but taking my hand as well.us leaving the wedding

In the end, this young couple needs only the excerpt from St. Paul’s letter to the people of Corinth and the closing words of the priest’s homily at their wedding to help them navigate the joys and strife of their new life together. It isn’t about the beautiful wedding attire or the delicious food and drink at spectacular venues. It isn’t about the Pinterest ideas or the ubiquitous iPhone cameras in the hands of nearly all of the guests. It isn’t about the rain and dark clouds that dampened the two days’ activities. It isn’t about the dress or the cake or the flowers. It is about love. And, love never fails.

“New Testament Readings.” For Your Marriage. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. Web. 4 Oct. 2015.