WEDDING REFLECTIONS

I just got back from Japan,  returned to work on Monday after four months on disability, and I am getting married in 9 days. Plus I’m still involved in my usual activities like CFRI, the Power of Two film project and book speaking engagements. Can you say “overwhelmed?” I thought in a crazy stream of consciousness last night that if people with addiction issues had a life like mine, they would not need to abuse alcohol or drugs because they would be high on life already. That is how I feel.  High on life.  Addicted to life.  Sorry, I hope this thought doesn’t offend anyone.

With all this activity, no wonder on Monday I saw in the mirror two gray hairs on the top of my head. My first gray hairs! Woohoo! What a milestone. I was so impressed.

I wanted to share a story that I found quite powerful.  My friend with CF died in 1998 and we’ve been blessed to keep a strong friendship with her parents. H. had attended Stanford with us, and she was bright, ambitious, and so much fun.  As many people with CF experience, she questioned if she would ever marry, or if anyone would ever love her despite her illness. Well, she confided this to her mother while shopping one day.  In order to prove to her that she would find marry one day, H.’s mother bought her some wedding jewelry right then and there, and told her that someday she would wear it.  Well, H. died in 1998 after two failed double lung transplants, without ever marrying.  

When I returned to Japan last Thursday, I saw a package in the mail. I opened it and saw that it was the beautiful jewelry that belonged to H. that her mother bought on that shopping trip with her daughter. Because H. never had a chance to wear it, she was passing it onto me, offering me the opportunity to wear it on my wedding day. I was so touched. Even 12 years later, H.’s spirit lives on.

This honor is so bittersweet. My wedding, to me, is so much more than professing my love and commitment to my future husband, Trent. My wedding is about unconditional love; it’s about showing the world that certain exceptional people can love people with CF through all the medical drama. My wedding is a symbol of survival, that I’ve made it to this moment, and a symbol of so many blessings and a larger love too.

For the parents of my friends who are attending who will be attending, I often contemplate how incredibly bittersweet it will be to see me getting married, while their own adult child never had the opportunity. What could result? Envy, sadness, resentment, regret? Or happiness or  honor that we have built strong bonds through the death of their adult children to surpass these natural emotions?  I don’t know.  Maybe a mixture of both.

In Japan, we visited the Parliament to meet the Ministry of Health members who passed a ruling allowing certain CF drugs into the country. The atmosphere was celebratory and hopeful. Afterwards, we spoke to Ms. Aoyama, who lost her daughter to CF several years ago.  We expressed our sorrow and sympathy that these strides for improved access to CF care came too late for her daughter, and we shared intimate moments of grief in the middle of the bustling train station.

I imagine similar emotions may run true at my wedding for those of us who think of our friends who have passed who cannot attend.  To those parents, I say, “I’m so sorry that H., C., T., M., and others, couldn’t experience this.  I’m so sorry their lives were cut short, and they were not as lucky as me.” For them, I celebrate this day even more. For them, I feel their presence and spirit with me, and celebrate the ongoing friendships I have with their strong and courageous parents.

Many people are asking me if I am nervous about my wedding. With 94% of the planning done, it’s hard to say I am. I have been on the spot before and have experience organizing large events. This obviously will be different, but my only anticipated moments of embarrassment will be during our first dance (practicing has been humorous to say the least) and when I make my first appearance  (you’ll have to wait and see why). But with my love for Trent and God’s presence as the main focus, I’m sure I can just ignore those feelings and embrace the moment.

Fondly, ANA STENZEL

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