July 19

I remember the day most vividly when it’s hot, like it is now. The heat of that summer, 1986, was different than other summers because of the lack of humidity. Where now you can work up a healthy sweat in a matter of seconds, back 26 summers ago there seemed to be no moisture in the air here in Upstate South Carolina. It hadn’t rained for more than a month as dawn broke on July 19, 1986.

I didn’t have too many cares that morning, other than the one to make sure I got to the church on time because July 19, 1986 was the day I got married to Elaine Russell.

I look back on that day now fondly because of the funny things that happened that day and the day before and the joy of saying “I do” with a woman who was so loving and so sweet and so genuine.

I remember worrying about my friends from the Northeast who had never experienced that kind of heat for any length of time.

I remember my brother, the wine expert, asking the waiter at the rehearsal dinner to put some ice in his wine. In a hushed tone, the waiter said, “Sir we usually serve this wine at room temperature.” My brother’s reply? “Yeah, but the room temperature is 85!”

I remember playing golf the day of the rehearsal dinner when the temperature was 103. The only thing that was green on that course was the putting surfaces, the Bermuda grass in the fairways having died of thirst a few weeks before.

I remember sitting in the pastor’s office waiting for the ceremony to begin, and the pastor saying, “Well, it’s 1:54, almost time.” My brother, my best man, jokingly said, “Yeah, let’s synchronize our watches.” With a stone face, the pastor said, “My wife and I already have.”

I remember my sister-in-law’s husband checking with the wedding director, the pastor’s wife, to see if it was time to light the candles. She looked at her watch and said, “No, it’s not time.” He turns, walks the few steps back to his post as an usher, only to see the pastor’s wife immediately motion him back over and say, “Steve, it’s time to light the candles.”

I remember it was so hot that instead of entering the sanctuary from the customary right side, the pastor, my brother and I entered from his office off to the left because we would’ve had to go outside in 106 degree heat wearing  cutaway tuxes.

I remember both Elaine and I getting a case of the giggles as we recited the vows. I remember really concentrating and trying not to laugh. As soon as the pastor said, “I now pronounce you man and wife.” I turned with my wife on my arm, but noticed a kind of pregnant pause behind me. Then the recessional played and all seemed OK. The only thing I forgot to do was … kiss my new wife!

I remember my 3-year-old nephew coming up and telling me, in a very concerned and serious tone, “Uncle Mark, somebody put rice in your car.” I knelt down and told him it was OK, they were supposed to do that.

I remember that as friends and family were getting ready to “decorate” our car, one of the ushers asked if anybody had any lipstick. Elaine’s best friend then opened her purse, produced a cosmetic counter-amount of the stuff and said, “What shade do you need?”

Those are good memories, ones that I will take with me the rest of my days.

But one memory, a melancholy one, is the knowledge that the marriage was destined to last only 10 years, 3 months and 11 days because the loving and  genuine and sweet woman left this life the day before Halloween 1996.

Weep not. My heart is truly filled with gratitude to God for the time we had. It was a good time. It was July 19, 1986, and I remember it like it was yesterday.