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Get me to the church -- made of marble (not wood, please)
And the babbling continues. So BK and I became engaged on July 30. A few things have happened between then and now. Please allow me to continue to bring you up to speed.
Because of the aforementioned circumstances — my reception venue was almost entirely booked for the month of September — I was able to get a verbal agreement from the senior sales manager at Normandy that she’d hold Sept. 30, 2011 for us until we were able to book the church. As Catholics, that step is key for us. In fact, it must happen first. It was summer, and of course the priest I needed to speak to was on vacation.
Because I did not spend my girlhood daydreaming of the day I’d walk down the aisle, I can honestly say the one thing — the only thing — I ever envisioned about my wedding was that it would take place in an old, Catholic Church like the one where my parents said their vows. I was after that traditional architecture, and I didn’t intend on having it any other way.
I’d spent some time at St. Patrick’s in Norristown for work and each time I stepped off of DeKalb Street and through the doors, I was in awe. Now this was a church. In speaking with Father Murphy I learned that our desired date was open but one thing was made clear: He had a strict B.Y.O.P. (bring your own priest) policy for non-parishioners.
Meanwhile, with the help of my dad, we tracked down the priest who married my parents and baptized all three Brooks kids, to ask him to perform the wedding Mass. He was, of course, on vacation. So then we waited some more.
When my dad received the phone call we’d been anticipating from Father Welsh, who had blessed me as a baby and would now help me start the next chapter of my life with BK, it was like the volume to the soundtrack in my mind was turned up high, and the current track was "Hallelujah!"
I called Father Murphy to tell him we had secured the priest, and he wrote our names in the Sept. 30, 2011 block of the church’s calendar. It was official. We were set to plan.
From there we were able to check off a couple of major items on our list: We booked our reception. We signed off on our photographer’s lovely services. Things were happening.
Because of the aforementioned circumstances — my reception venue was almost entirely booked for the month of September — I was able to get a verbal agreement from the senior sales manager at Normandy that she’d hold Sept. 30, 2011 for us until we were able to book the church. As Catholics, that step is key for us. In fact, it must happen first. It was summer, and of course the priest I needed to speak to was on vacation.
Because I did not spend my girlhood daydreaming of the day I’d walk down the aisle, I can honestly say the one thing — the only thing — I ever envisioned about my wedding was that it would take place in an old, Catholic Church like the one where my parents said their vows. I was after that traditional architecture, and I didn’t intend on having it any other way.
I’d spent some time at St. Patrick’s in Norristown for work and each time I stepped off of DeKalb Street and through the doors, I was in awe. Now this was a church. In speaking with Father Murphy I learned that our desired date was open but one thing was made clear: He had a strict B.Y.O.P. (bring your own priest) policy for non-parishioners.
Meanwhile, with the help of my dad, we tracked down the priest who married my parents and baptized all three Brooks kids, to ask him to perform the wedding Mass. He was, of course, on vacation. So then we waited some more.
When my dad received the phone call we’d been anticipating from Father Welsh, who had blessed me as a baby and would now help me start the next chapter of my life with BK, it was like the volume to the soundtrack in my mind was turned up high, and the current track was "Hallelujah!"
I called Father Murphy to tell him we had secured the priest, and he wrote our names in the Sept. 30, 2011 block of the church’s calendar. It was official. We were set to plan.
From there we were able to check off a couple of major items on our list: We booked our reception. We signed off on our photographer’s lovely services. Things were happening.
posted by Melissa Brooks at
1:00 PM
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