Why My Wedding Will Be AWESOME

For a long time now there’s been a question, rolling around the depths of my head.

Am I cursed or blessed?

At times, I envy the people who can gather their loved ones all together on a Sunday afternoon. Aunts and uncles, partners and childhood friends. A potluck of love and laughter and all things light. Sure, old Uncle Billy might have too much to drink and maybe your cousin has a dreamy new boyfriend that makes your love life look a little pathetic. But I wouldn’t care. The concept is a foreign one, and I envy that reunion, each person bringing their light to the table, and jointly basking in the glow of their togetherness.

Unfortunately, life has not afforded me that option. Never have I had that complete reunion, each family I’ve ever had- blood related or not- mingling together. Don’t get me wrong, love defines my humanity. But so does distance. Ever since I was a child, I grew accustomed to goodbyes- my family living on different corners of the country, this is natural. The only true time we reunited was, rather morbidly, for funerals. While the occasions themselves were somber ones, the oh-so Irish Catholic “after parties” have always been my best memories. Being in a room of people who unconditionally love you and know you speaks for itself.

But my dream is to be in a room with all the people who unconditionally love and know me.

When I was 16 I moved to Spain for a year. I lived in Santiago de Compostela  with the amazing de la Cruz family. This soon became a year imperative to my formulation as a being, an experience so woven into who I am. It was never easy, but it was always worth it. Part of what made my tenure away from home easier, was the fabulous community of exchange students. I quickly bonded with others who were sharing the same struggles, forming a tight knit family of odd-ended foreigners. The sort of people who will debate for hours the existence of religion and then will turn to each other, laugh, and chuckle then strategize for the craziest night out ever. Intelligent, genuine, brilliant people. Individuals who celebrated their intellect and differences, all around awesome human beings.

Some of my incredible exchange student friends after swimming in a random river

And this was not the only family I gained. I gained my host family, startlingly different to my natural born one, but loved all the same. A network of AFS volunteers, all adults who tenderly cared about my well-being. My Spanish friends, vibrant loud beautiful creatures who embraced me as one of their own.

Mis chicas- Julia, Lara, Camila, Adrián photo bombing, Stefanía, me and Ane

The lovely María, an AFS vollunteer who became like a mother to me, and her daughters

My amazing host family, my host cousin Andrea, my father Victor, my brother Pablo, Tía María, Tio Mancho, Tío José, Abuela, my mother Maribel and me

My love is diffracted off in a thousand directions, my heart on all corners of the globe, chattering in their distinct languages, experiencing each this earth uniquely. My life has brushed briefly upon there’s- I share not years with them, but months- yet with such an intensity that these beautiful souls leave unforgettable footprints upon mine.

As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. So would I happier not knowing my friends, my families? Would I be happier with steady, simplistic memories of friends I have shared everything with- my history, my past, my future? Would I sleep easier with just one language rushing my head?

I think not. But my life sure as hell would be easier.

I am seventeen. And I cannot wait for my wedding.

I’ve never really been into Barbies, my wardrobe is characterized by cool boots and chucks, and I only really watch Say Yes to the Dress when I've hit a reaaal bad low.I yearn for my wedding day not because I care about the frilly white dress nor the red velvet cake, but I can not wait until I have the excuse to gather those I love and those who love me into one room. Together.

Unfortunately, the only other occasion when such blatant “self absorption” is accepted is a funeral that regrettably I would not even be around to enjoy. (Which leads me to think...can I cash in my funeral reunion now? Pre-game my death with my favorite people?) But yes, this wedding. Filled with bilingual chatter and colorful food and colorful people. Lots of dancing, and lots of laughs and all the mothers I’ve ever had finally being together, all the families I’ve ever had being together.

That is my dream.

Its a scary thing, distance. When you live life reaching so far for people so worth the reach, sometime it scares you to start the process all over again. I have a brother and I love him dearly. As I laughingly describe him, he is my worst enemy and my best friend. He keeps me sane only to drive me insane. School work is impossible with him in the house, not with out him distracting me with stupid dance moves and strange faces. We fight. A lot. But we also laugh, much much more. My mom doesn’t know how to react to us, because we always seem to be speaking in our own little language.

And he lives in Norway. Okay so immediately, right now, he is across the wall, maybe 15 feet away. But this stay is brief and soon it will end in a soggy hug goodbye.

My natural family and my brother Stian (me, my mom, Stian, my dad, Rosie, Cece) on the day we picked him up

I have never had a brother before. I don’t know if I will ever have another. All I know is that I love him very much and come June he will live very far away. And after a life of goodbyes and shortly lived brilliances, the threat of his departure scares me. Because I know so well what its like to move from teary promises to Skype everyday to the occasion message on Facebook, to a fleeting like on Instagram.

Goodbyes scare me and they will never cease to.

So thats why my wedding will be awesome. I’m sure my dress will be beautiful, my food delicious and my groom ( I’m hoping) pretty damn smokin’. But most importantly, all the beautiful creatures who have inhabited my life will be there. And I will finally have that hello again.

I might not ever get that. Sometimes life gets in the way, and people drift. But I will keep fighting for it. So the next Sunday you're around the dinner table and Grandpa boasts again of his glory days, take a second and think about it. Think about how lucky you are to have that. And don't take it for granted.