When Life Goes On But Not The Same


Stan, the man who officiated our marriage, is sparkly and magic. He’s nearly seven feet tall and when I met him he was wearing a sox hat and drinking a dry martini.

When talking about how we envisioned the ceremony I asked if he could minimize the God talk. “Let me guess,” he said. “You’re not religious. You’re spiritual.”

“Well. I don’t know. But I have a Jewish soul” I told him and he laughed. Ah, he said, and nodded.

When he drained the bottom of his drink, he set the glass down and took a deep breath, looked at us. “The energy between you two is filling up this whole room. It’s cool”

The three of us had dinner. Learned he’d been married for 40-some years and still talked about his wife like she was his new discovery. They retired a few years ago and now travel the world. Lucio kept his fingers on my back the whole night; played with my hair and beamed. When he talked about his first marriage he explained that it was a mistake. He was thankful because it helped him learn the importance of being sure. That marriage is forever. Until he met me, he never realized the power of a love that you can’t imagine living without. (gag)

Before we left the restaurant, stan leaned down and said I was going to be happy. “It’s really something the way he looks at you.”

His phone number is still programmed in my cell phone, leftover from the weeks before the ceremony. I told stan some brides freak out about flowers and the dress, cake and the seating chart. To me, it was most important that the words, our vows, be perfect.

I’ve imagined conversations with him these last weeks. Calling and telling him what happened, that he was wrong. Something kept stopping me. I didn’t want him to feel bad.

After our dinner the other night, c. (she’s a religion writer, knows him, recommended him) reached out. “Stan. I think Jessica needs to see you.”

I heard from him immediately. We’re having dinner Monday, at the same place we met. This time, there will be no hand on my back, fingers twirling my hair. I’ll fill the room with energy of my own, which is cool.