Musings from a Mid-life Bride-to-Be

I’ve known for a long time that I wouldn’t be a traditional bride. That fantasy died after losing both of my parents to cancer. What gave me comfort was believing I would have family and friends beside me during my wedding journey, their proximity helping to offset the immeasurable void created by Mom and Dad’s absence.

Then Covid-19 happened.

After getting engaged on our beloved ‘80s Cruise, my fiancé Steve and I came home to a changed world. A world in which tragedy and death overshadowed everything else. Mom would have been the first to say count your blessings. No matter what cards life dealt her, she never lost her ability to feel gratitude. Right after learning that the cancer had spread to her brain — a fatal diagnosis — she said with sincerity:

“God’s been very good to me.”

I am beyond grateful that I can say the same. God carried me through a life-threatening depression in 2016, gave me my beloved pup Benji and led me to my forever soulmate.

In this terrible time of unimaginable loss, I and my loved ones have stayed healthy and safe. More than anything, this precious gift should be enough to stave off any feelings of hurt or disappointment. As the saying goes, though, the heart wants what it wants. And I wanted more for this milestone in my life. A lot more. It took 46 years to find the man of my dreams. With both Mom and Dad gone, I naively thought every other part of this rite of passage would unfold as I imagined. Including the big reveal at work.

Over the years, I’ve witnessed dozens of colleagues announce their engagements. At one boutique firm populated heavily with twentysomething women, I was surrounded by six brides-to-be simultaneously. More recently, I sat a few feet away from two chatty millennials who got engaged around the same time and also happen to be best friends. For two years, it was all wedding talk with them. All. The. Time. Being literally the only single person in our small office didn’t help.

Then, Steve and I fell in love. Suddenly, every previous heartbreak made sense. Like it was all a preamble to sharing my life with this extraordinary man. As I have said many times, Steve is worth everything I went through to find him. Anticipating we would get engaged on the cruise, I went on vacation looking forward to sharing it with co-workers and loved ones when we got back.

The pandemic had other plans. After being furloughed for two months, I was laid off in June. Instead of a gushing, celebratory moment at work, I returned to a shuttered, empty office alone to pack up my belongings and turn in my keys. The stillness unnerved me, amplifying the surrealness of it all.

I was nearly as taken aback by my wedding planner’s response when I shared my age with her.

“I have so many brides that get engaged in their mid 40’s, so this is the norm.”

The wedding industry has been slow to respond to this new normal. Even though more women are marrying later in life, most pre-nuptial marketing and merchandising – ‘engaged AF’ t-shirts, etc. — remains geared toward millennials like those BFF colleagues of mine. According to The Knot’s 2020 newlywed survey of 25,000 couples, the average age of newly married couples is 32. Still, The Knot magazine’s Real Weddings section highlights only couples in their twenties. Meanwhile, almost every bridal gown ad features fresh faced, pencil thin supermodel types. The message is clear — if you’re a bride in her forties, you’re pretty much an afterthought.

I can’t help appreciating the irony. Brides over the age of 40 have gone through more trials and tribulations to arrive at happily ever after. We have earned the fanfare that usually accompanies getting engaged. And yet, because of ageism in our culture, we’re made to feel that we should be more subdued about this hard-won milestone. One relative of mine pooh poohed the idea of a bridal shower, stating that at my age I already have everything I need. A close friend expressed zero interest in hearing about the proposal when we got together for the first time in months. And long before I got engaged (and before Covid), two retired family members asked that the wedding not interfere with their late 2020 vacations.

Amidst all of this, life and wedding planning go on. Two pandemic-necessitated postponements notwithstanding, Steve and I have managed to check off most of the important to-dos without much stress. Church, reception venue, band, cake designer and florist are all booked. The current task at hand – finding my dress. It felt magical to begin this quest at NYC’s legendary Kleinfeld’s and I shared that on Facebook.

“You are living a fairy tale!” commented one friend.

There’s no such thing as fairy tales, not in these pandemic times. Looking for a dress without my mother is bittersweet. While I have cried tears of joy from finding true love, there are just as many moments when I’m overwhelmed with sadness because my parents aren’t here.

Of course, my Facebook post about going to Kleinfeld’s didn’t articulate any of this. A single-day snapshot rarely gives you the full picture of someone’s emotional life. Assuming otherwise is one of the greatest misconceptions – and dangers – of social media. Which reminds me of one of my favorite sayings:

“Be kind, for everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

We’re all going through a lot. A little kindness — and remembering to share the good times as well as the bad — will make all the difference in helping us get to the other side.