Friday, August 24, 2007

The Wedding Planner

(Horrible movie, starring a friend with absolutely no common sense where script selection is concerned. Don't hate, Matt. Unless it is J.Lo. It is good and righteous to hate J.Lo. And I know you know that.)

My brother is getting married on NYE. Sibling #3. Marrying a great girl that I cannot wait to call family. City girl, we'll call E, much like me. She has been navigating the wedding maze by herself. On Monday, all of the siblings came over and we dished about weddings and venues. I handed her a slew of recommendations. Today, I got roped in, rodeo style.

First, it was the rehearsal dinner. Unbeknownst to me, I had been put in charge of it. My folks had said "let K decide where and negotiate it" After talking to E about a myriad of possibilities, we (yes, I think it is) ironically concluded that the Space Needle was the best place. I am as local as they get when it comes to Seattle venues and the Space Needle is where you take your visitors, not where you go for dinner on a Sunday night. That said, many of the guests are coming from McMansion land in Texas and you can be damn sure they want to tell their friends they had dinner at the Needle.

What struck me in all of this is how I wanted to call B. This is his forte, not mine, and I knew he would be full of suggestions. Uncannily, he called and, after dealing with the personal matters, I asked him for advice. Holy shit, he completely erupted with suggestions and ideas. He kept advocating for the same restaurant I had suggested for the rehearsal, because of the local atmosphere and the great food. I reminded him that if this was us and we were planning a party, sure, but this is for a great deal of out-of-towners who would love to recount to their friends and neighbors their "Night at the Needle." "Remember when we were planning ours, we were mindful of our guests who were combining vacations with a wedding." He got it and immediately got off the phone to make calls on my brother's behalf.

About an hour later, we had secured almost everything - the wedding space, the reception hall, a new caterer, and, of course, the private dining rooms at the Needle. He called in a ton of favors and referred to my brother as his "brother-in-law," even though that era had ended. We both scrolled through our contacts and (1) negotiated a rate for a different, more centrally located hotel; (2) erased close to $5K in add on fees; (3) secured a better caterer who didn't add on random fees and (4) booked the DJ that was "unavailable" for the next six months.

We did all of this the way we used to do everything -- in partnership. B and I aren't going to ride off into the sunset (although tonight? I am pretty sure that is where his head was). When we touched base, it was fun and jointly realized. I will always, always miss that man. He had it all. There was a moment tonight where we both uttered the name of someone we could call. B's response was "K, he has been in love with you since the 90's, you'll get the better rate." My reply was "B, they probably would dance with someone who can get them a chandelier." B said "tough call, I still would bank on your appeal over my connections."

He was right.

I think I am allowed to miss him. I miss my husband everyday, even though I know that guy no longer exists. He is just a ghost. I have met men in the interim that didn't have half of his confidence and determination and it makes me miss the ghost more. I will always miss the ghost of B, as he lacks the sack to be that guy now. Worse, he knows it. He knows he is his most real when he is with me. That saddens me on so many levels, as I have been my most real with others. To this day, I think we both really wanted to know each other. And did, to a point. And still do, to another extent.

I miss my B. I think I always will.

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