Down to the Wire

Down to the Wire

It seems so surreal. I remember when the countdown clock used to say "861 days to go" and I was excited then despite the quiet chuckles of amusement and the veiled smirks. A virtual pat on the head and an unspoken "Awww… That's cute". Now I try not to look at the clock because the nervous, nauseous pre- show feeling starts to flutter in my tummy and I just start to feel so crazy. The nervousness is mostly about my preparedness issues. I'm not sure that I'll be ready in time having all the things accomplished that I'd hoped to. But that just means action now.

I have to pick a song for my brother and I to dance to. I'm actually excited about it. With only a 4 year jump on me, he, more than anyone else has attempted to be a lasting father figure to me when the actual one was lacking. He helped me thru life's difficulties and celebrated my achievements the way a brother should and a father would. In my mind, I've narrowed it down to 2 songs. "He Is, They Are" by Harry Connick, Jr and "My Sherona" by The Knack. The latter of which has personal inside meaning to us about a day in our single digit youth that involved 3 of our favorite cousins visiting from Haiti, a hot day in NYC in the back of a station wagon and toasting a piece of bread on the metal plank in said station wagon. My Sherona was on the radio and our cousin Luc who barely spoke english would belt out "Mah Sheeshee ronaaahh". And we'd all fall out laughing. Doesn't seem like much- but it's a memory that we both share with equal fondness.

The former seems inappropriate at the words (it's about a father and his two kids getting along without the mom – which couldn't be further from our reality), but we love Harry Connick Jr. so much and enjoy the music over the words. I'll give them both a listen today and see if I can make up my mind.

We finalized stuff with the videographer on tuesday night… Today, we get our marriage license and tomorrow and Saturday promise to be full of festivity and celebration. I'm up for it all.

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