We didn't hire a videographer for our wedding. Three separate people, however, all brought video cameras to our wedding, so we figured we would get a copy of it from someone. We never did.
As our fifth anniversary approached, I mentioned to one of those three people that we had never seen a tape of our wedding. He loaned us his copy of it, and my in-laws sent the tape away to a video company to get a DVD made as an anniversary gift for us. We belatedly received the DVD on Thursday night.
All that to say, I got to watch my wedding video for the first time on Thursday night. And I was smitten all over again, and touched by the memories. I watched the joy on my face, and listened to the vows we wrote, and surprised myself at how much I remembered.
Before the wedding started, while I was getting dressed, Scott had video-interviewed several people and asked them if they wanted to say something to the bride and groom. One of the people he interviewed was my dad.
Call me stupid, but for some reason, I forgot that my dad would appear in my wedding video. As we were getting ready to watch the movie, I thought about the vows, and the music, and the flower girls, and the dress, but I forgot to brace myself for the people. At least three people who were at my wedding have since passed away. I suppose that's not all that unusual, out of a crowd that size, but all three of them were middle-aged men who died well before their time. It shook me a bit to see them, and to think that every time I watch my wedding video, there will likely be a few more beloved friends or relatives in the footage who are no longer living. I shed a few tears during the viewing of the movie, but the overall happy mood of the day kept me from becoming too upset.
My father's message was beautiful, and it was touching to hear him affirm my choice of a husband in Jeremy. Later on, as I was lying in bed, calming my mind for sleep, the image of my father from the video kept re-playing in my mind. Then something snapped, and it was like losing him all over again. I have many wonderful memories of my father, and I miss him often, but there was something about having a vivid, recent image of him that brought back the sense of loss, leaving me feeling raw and helpless. It's been two years, but every once in a while, the grief just overwhelms me. And I cry, and I mourn, and I move on. Again.