Recently my husband and I traveled three hours by car to the wedding of a long-time friend, with the belief that we were going to have a great time. The wedding was held at a gorgeous resort with the ceremony overlooking the lake. It was a beautiful day and we were sure that we would see people we hadn’t seen in a long time. It would be a nice outing for us and we would be able to reconnect without all the distractions—television, telephone, and daughter—found at home. The trip, itself, would offer great alone time.

On the road

The day started with my husband waking with a backache. No big deal. A few aspirins would handle this problem. To assure that the road trip wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for him, we brought an abundance of pillows that could be stuffed under and behind him to help relieve the pain. I would drive to lessen his discomfort. (If the truth be told, I always drive to lessen my discomfort. He is, in my opinion, a terrible driver.)

Less than half an hour into the trip, my husband was reclined on the very back seat of our minivan. The pain made sitting a difficult task. No problem. I had my talking book to keep me company. For the remainder of the trip, he slept, and I drove with an exciting mystery as my companion.

A few miles from our destination we stopped at a roadside park to change into our wedding attire. By this time my husband could hardly move. It was difficult for him to change and the task was made more unbearable by the smell that filled the outhouses that the park offered.

At the location

We arrived late and made our way to the ceremony location. Luckily, all the seats were taken and we were required to stand in the very back behind other standing guests. I say luckily because by this time my husband could not sit. The pain was that great. Unfortunately, due to the crowd and our vantage point, we were unable to see what was going on. We were there, but we missed out on the ceremony.

Following the vows, everyone assembled in a large corral with picnic tables for the reception. After perusing the guests, we discovered that there was no one we knew. We sat with a couple who also didn’t know anyone. We were fortunate. They proved to be interesting dinner guests.

My husband ate as fast as he could so he didn’t have to remain seated for long. He then stood at the end of the table while the rest of us ate our meal, which wasn’t very tasty. My husband had hoped that a few alcoholic drinks would lessen his pain. Alcohol wasn’t served. Our choice of drinks was water, iced tea or lemonade.

On the road again

My husband's pain continued to be so intense that we decided to leave immediately after the meal. Another three-hour trip was made with him reclined in the back, and me attached to the steering wheel and my mystery. Few words were shared.

We expected a great time. Aside from the interesting couple we met, it didn’t happen. We were definitely disappointed. Sure…this time it was due, in part, to a bad back. But, like other times throughout my life, expectations proved to be the wrong way to approach things. With no expectations, be they positive or negative, I have been able to handle people and things with an open mind; I have been able to enjoy the moment for what it was and not for what I had planned it to be. And this is how it should be. How wise be the powers-that-be!