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I was never one of those women who pictured herself in a big white gown, walking down the aisle. For me it was more about getting married in Las Vegas by an Elvis impersonator on the Strip and having a great party in New York afterward.
When Frank and I decided to get married, my only stipulation was that my mother didn’t know about it. If that sounds harsh, understand the women on my mother’s side of the family tend to be a little obsessive. To compound that, my mother and my aunt are twins, my aunt lives in Manhattan, and used to be one of the famous fact checkers at the New Yorker. If the twins knew about the wedding, it would be endless obsession over food, drink, napkins, guests… everything.
As we usually host Thanksgiving, the plan was to get married the next afternoon. A justice of the peace was found who would come to our country house and perform the ceremony. We told everyone he was an architect coming to look at the house, and he was great about playing along.
On Friday afternoon, a few friends and family were up at our house eating turkey sandwiches, hanging out in their slippers. My best friend/maid of honor, and I were frantically trying to put the Martha Stewart touch to a bunch of lily of the valley. When the justice of the peace showed up, I came down the stairs in an off white cashmere turtleneck and velvet skirt and said “I know you thought we were going to announce our engagement tonight, and we still might, but right now we’re getting married”. Supposedly the look on my father’s face was amazing, and I’m sorry I missed it.
After the brief ceremony, we had champagne and cake, and went off to a celebratory dinner at the Beekman Tavern in Rhinebeck. My mother was thrilled, and as it turned out, grateful that she didn’t have to do anything but enjoy herself.
Three weeks later, we had the big party at our apartment in Manhattan, surrounded by friends and family. The highlight of the party was an amazing wedding cake made by two of my friends out of two hundred Tastykakes (Frank is from Philly). 
And for the past eleven years, we’ve lived happily ever after, always celebrating our anniversary on the Friday after Thanksgiving. Love you sporto!
Have a Happy Thanksgiving!
