by Joey Sett Brady

Created on: November 16, 2007

Before getting married last year; I learned a variety of things about the process of weddings and guest lists: A. A wedding on Long Island costs slightly less than a recently discovered Van Gogh painting :) B. I am more of an idealistic bride than my wife C. No matter whom you invite or neglect to invite: people will be unhappy.
After a blissful engagement, my soon to be wife and I realized we were a study in contrasts. Her typical family gathering, on the Eastern End of Long Island, was infrequent, incredibly small, and consisted of drinking fine wine, eating foods I often had trouble pronouncing, and daintily laughing at her father's jokes that I didn't understand until hours, or sometimes days, later.

My typical family affair, in a working-class Italian and Irish neighborhood, was quite different. Each week we had Sunday dinner together: brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, friends, cousins, and really anyone who happened to be outside when my mother called in all of the children to eat. The dinners were loud, boisterous and long; with laughter, stories, teasing, conversations, arguments, and eating and eating lasting long into the night. To plan a wedding that incorporated both backgrounds was daunting, disconcerting, and frankly not as fun or zany as it is portrayed in the movies. The key, we found, was compromise. We knew that we could not have a wedding as intimate as my wife wanted, nor have one as all in-compassing as I envisioned. I was given a set number of people I could invite, and although I cheated with that number and went over by ten, I knew it was still both a realistic and practical number. Anyone that I could not invite, I tried to explain to them the situation to them as tactfully and respectfully as I could. Communication, we found, sometimes prevented small problems from becoming larger. Most friends and relatives were supportive, others were not. Although I think I learned greatly from the experience as to what type of person I truly wanted in my life by the compassion, or lack thereof, in the various reactions. One person that I could not invite from work had a dinner at a local restaurant with our colleagues to wish me well. A cousin that lives out-of -state sent us a beautiful card. On the other end of the spectrum, my boss was highly insulted and often reminds me how I slighted him and what a generous gift I missed out on. Another example of limited understanding would be the conversation I had with my older sister weeks before the wedding:

Sister : Your not inviting Aunt Martha?

Me- Who is Aunt Martha ?

Sister You know..Aunt Martha. Aunt Carol's sister.

Me : Aunt Carol has a sister?

Sister No, but she lived next door for years. They are practically inseparable

Me : Oh.

Sister I can't believe you would forget to invite her. Especially after her surgery. Don't you want your day to be perfect?

I did want my day to be perfect. I did want the whole world to celebrate with me on our special day, but I stuck to my guns. For one of the few times I can remember, I refused to feel guilty.
On the day of the wedding, during our first dance as man and wife, with the prerequisite number of guests cheering us on, I looked at my new spouse, her shining eyes, her radiant, beaming smile, and as I held her close I knew.I did see the whole world right in front of me, and it was perfect.

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