PARTING WISHES

We drove back to the hotel to part ways for the last time before being united as husband and wife. She was staying at the hotel; her beauty sleep had to be respected; and I was staying at my brother’s house in the guest room, which also housed their new puppy in her cage. She is an English Mastiff, so this puppy resembles a petite quarter horse.

I had to retrieve my travel bag of overnight and preparation essentials. This consisted of new black socks, new undershirt, and new black boxer briefs. I normally wear boxers, but apparently I needed even more slimming around the hips. She had done some last-minute shopping to obtain everything she and I needed for our special day. Not that I usually spend my days in soiled undergarments, but crisp and clean was the name of the game. I received a new bar of soap, only to be used that morning or at my decided cleaning time. It was shaped like a bear and smelled like honey. I was going to be so pretty and smell so nice. Lastly, she handed me a gift-wrapped box.

“Is this the present that we said we weren’t getting each other?” I asked.

“Yes. But you’ve put so much work into this, I thought you deserved one.”

Yes, I had been working hard, but she had absorbed most of the stress. I was working hard simply to try and relieve portions of that stress from her. But despite everything she had to deal with, including me, she went that extra mile to make someone else feel happy and appreciated. That was one of the infinite reasons I took her off the market. It was also why I could overlook her hints at upgrading the cleanliness of my wedding undergarments. I opened the gift and was blown away that she had gotten me, not a good-luck pack of breath mints, but an elegant Swiss Army watch.

Let us again take a moment to be thankful for the unfazed neutrality of Switzerland that allows their obviously entirely heterosexual armed forces to pursue their passionate interest in fashion design, without the worry of armed conflict disrupting the creative process. How effective an offensive can you have with a fighting force that is constantly delayed by the looting of the fallen to inspect the thread count of their garments and seek inspiration from their methods of supply-packing and transport?

It wasn’t easy to say good-bye, but it was easy to look forward to tomorrow. We kissed one last time and smiled—in anticipation of what lay ahead and in relief at reaching the culmination of the last nine months.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival