Weddings have changed HUGELY from my day, as have honeymoons. When I grew up weddings happened in a church, with a full mass, NO EXCEPTIONS. Nowadays, weddings take place on tropical beaches, in hot air balloons, hockey arenas, bowling alleys, you name it. And the honeymoon now often only happens, if at all, months later and actually that’s a pretty good idea. When I married we left the morning after for our honeymoon, which meant I couldn’t spend time with all the guests who came from a distance for my wedding. Delaying the honeymoon means you get it all; the party, the people, the whole deal….and good for you. Now that’s planning, cause these people came for you, so revel in it.

The honeymoons taken today too, are so much more interesting than those we took. We’d go to a local Inn for 4 days, or rent someone’s cottage for a week, and if we were really adventurous, we’d fly to Florida. Today kids are going to Africa on safari, or Europe back packing, and they don’t even blink at the notion of living abroad for weeks at a time. B & B’s, Air BNB, and VRBO have made it so easy to travel with comfort, and this next generation are so much more adventurous than we ever were.

My wedding was lovely. I married at 10:45am, had a ‘subdued’ luncheon reception at a golf club, (my in-laws didn’t like loud music) followed by a hoopin’ hoolerin’ foot stompin’ good time in my parents Lithuanian home. (Lots of herring, cabbage, schnaps and polkas,,,,what more do you need?) Much later that night my new husband and I slept (soundly) in our new home. We woke early to head out for our honeymoon. We’d booked a hotel in the Laurentians which was a 9-10 hour drive. I remember my husband taking things down to the car for loading – there was a lot, but I am very organized and had everything packed and in proximity to the door. We started our journey with a very full car and a lot of optimism for our new future together.

By early evening, and after a stunning scenic ride, we arrived at the hotel, tired but ready to celebrate. We checked in to our room and my darling new husband ran rounds to and from the car as I unpacked, anxious to shower and dress for our first dinner in the hotels lovely restaurant. After retrieving the last load he finally shut the door, exhausted,,,,,and I glanced at him expectantly. Scanning the now crowded room once more in case I missed something, I said “where’s my stuff?”. He looked totally confused. “What do you mean, your stuff? It must be here.”

But no.

We had – his golf clubs (I don’t golf, so no idea what he was planning here), his pillow (he can’t sleep without it), and his 2 suitcases (he wanted to be sure he covered all elements of the weather). There was nothing of mine, and I mean NOTHING! All I had was the corduroy slacks and turtleneck I was wearing. The lovely negligee I bought for my honeymoon was apparently still hanging in plastic by the front door, and my suitcase was still neatly packed and sitting in the hallway. How nice.

I sat on the edge of the bed and cried while my husband called the front desk to frantically ask about the dress code for the dining room, which had been advertised as ‘formal’. He explained our predicament (you know, that HE forgot all my clothes) and they advised that because they were close to the end of the peak season they’d let me into the dining room in my cords. Little did they know I’d be in those cords for the next seven days, every meal, every event.

In an effort to make it up to me, we went shopping but we were far up in the Laurentians and stores weren’t exactly abundant,,,,in fact there were none, the closest several hours away so I spent my 7 day honeymoon wearing the same clothes every day. I slept in the buff – BUT ONLY because I had to hand wash my ONLY pair of underwear so I could wear it the next day, while Mr “I need my pillow” slept quite soundly, thank you very much! (And I should point out that he got more sleep on this honeymoon than he would’ve liked!)

In the end we survived and we actually had a  really nice time. We saw a small plane crash into a local waterway, which was interesting, (all survived), and I didn’t kill my new husband, which was also interesting given that I was more than willing to do him in, and I grew to have such an aversion to corduroy slacks and turtlenecks that to this day I don’t own either.

We finished up our honeymoon and drove the 9 hours home to have Thanksgiving dinner with our family. When we got home there was my lovely negligee, still hanging at the door, and my suitcase was neatly packed and waiting in the hallway. My new husband had a load of laundry, his golf clubs (which he never used) and his pillow (cause he can’t sleep without it)

I threw out my cords and turtleneck and took a shower. The moral of this story is, never believe your husband when he says, “ok, we’re all packed and ready to go”.