226. ‘Til Death

Attending a wedding makes most people think about the nature of love. Nora is no different, and in this episode she takes us along as she attends her favorite kind of wedding: a widow wedding. 

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

I’m Nora McInerny, and it’s going to be okay.

It’s a sunny day in Las Vegas, but aren’t they all? 

I’m in one of the little wedding chapels this city is known for, waiting for a wedding to begin. We entered through the gift shop, and everyone in attendance is in their sparkliest outfits. At least two people are dressed as Elvis. Not counting the Elvis impersonator who will, eventually, officiate this wedding.

Before the ceremony begins, an employee enters the chapel and uses her best OUTDOOR VOICE to let us know that the ceremony is going to begin, and that because the couple bought the “media package” we can use our phones to record video or take photos. Which, okay!

Like most weddings, I know some guests and not others.

But the ones I know, I know one thing about:

We are all here, in this room, because we lost our husband, or our wife, our boyfriend, our girlfriend.

Most of us are widows.

Including the bride and the groom today.

And this is a widow wedding.

A widow wedding is kind of like any other wedding except, in my humble opinion, better. Because each party knows what it was like to really live up to the vows they took the first time. 

Because each party knows that forever might not be all that long.

Because grief can give you kind of a weird sense of humor.

When the fog machine starts, I start recording. (video 3836)

You know, because they bought the media package.

Note to self: everything is better with a fog machine. Get a fog machine.

When the chapel doors open and a pink cadillac driven by Elvis himself pulls in…I gasp.

And when the two of them dance (video 3838)…I feel my throat tighten.

Because it’s one helluva song. And because it’s one helluva life.

To lose the one you love. To find another love. To say, you know what? I’ll risk it again. Let’s do this. 

The toast – after the ceremony and throughout the weekend – was a hearty “TIL DEATH!” Followed by the kind of laughter you only hear from people who know what it means to live up to that promise.

Right after the ceremony, I noticed a GIANT sign across the street that said $10 tattoos. Now, I don’t, as a rule, recommend spending $10 on a tattoo. It’s an art form. It should cost you money. You should think about your first few tattoos. But at some point, you may, like me, become a human Pinterest board, and a $10 tattoo seems like a nice way to pass the time before karaoke starts. And so, a whole pack of widows walked in to a  low-rent tattoo shop and selected a $100 tattoo from a small list of available designs: a lightning bolt? A heart? We settled on a tiny little ghost. A sweet little guy or gal to remind us of the loves we lost, and the weekend we spent celebrating love discovered.

There are very few permanent things in life. People die. Tattoos can be layered off. But love  — even the kind that doesn’t last forever — is still indelible. It changes us, and we change each other, and on and on and on, in and out of marriages and little chapels and shitty tattoo shops.

Love. Love. Love.

Til death, yes, and so far beyond. 

Congratulations to Pat & Kat. Thank you for having me as a wedding guest. And apologies to everyone who heard me karaoke Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit, I don’t know what came over me or why that song is embedded into my brain stem, but it is.

CREDITS.