Helen Kay Polaski - A Cup of Comfort Stories for Weddings: Celebrating the most romantic day of our lives

Avon, Massachusetts

A Cup of Comfort Stories for Weddings pays tribute to the most important day of your life! Whether youre busy picking out bridesmaid dresses or approaching your golden anniversary, youll share in both the excitement of new love and the steadfastness of long-time love as celebrated in these heartwarming stories.

A Cup of Comfort Stories for Weddings will delight you and the one you love whether youre a newlywed or have long since finished your walk down the aisle with these tender tales of commitment, adoration, and intimate bonds.

By Susan J. Siersma

As I stepped onto the front porch that day so long ago, a sunny June sky and an explosion of yellow flowers from the golden rain tree in my parents yard greeted me. I clutched my bridal bouquet tightly and smiled. Then I threw my head back and, squinting into the glorious brightness, thought: This is a perfect day to marry my best friend! Soon the whole family, captured by Uncle Frank with his movie camera, was heading to the Church of the Holy Spirit, where friends and relatives waited to celebrate our special day with us.

By todays standards, our wedding would be considered modest almost tiny. The bridal party consisted of my sister Jean as maid of honor and Clay, my husbands brother-in-law, as best man. Our dear friend Andy acted as official wedding photographer. After the ceremony, my new husband, Rodger, and I dined at a quaint restaurant with our immediate relatives. From there, the party moved to my mother- and father-in-laws backyard. Under the shade of tall apple trees, guests shared conversation, lemonade, and hugs. Later that night, Rodger and I began our life together with a romantic honeymoon at Stricklands Resort in the cool Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania.

My mind often drifts back to that warm, wonderful June day, thirty-three years ago. It was a day of new beginnings for me and my husband. Today three grown children, three grandchildren, and thousands of precious memories later I realize that it all began with a smile and a very special coat.

For months, I had talked to Rodger on my sisters CB radio, and our friendship had grown. But we hadnt met face-to-face, and I could tell Rodger was as nervous about it as I was. When he stepped through the doorway of my Mothers kitchen, I was immediately drawn to his handsome face. His eyes were the color of early morning skies, and his skin was clear and fair. Wavy, slicked-back blond hair gave him a slight James Dean appearance, and I couldnt take my eyes off him or off his coat! The coat was made of soft, beige suede, with a warm pile lining and knobby, chocolate-colored leather buttons. I wanted to reach out and touch it and him but I didnt dare. Smitten with Rodger, and his beautiful coat, I fell in love at first sight.

After a while, Rodger took off his coat and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair. We sat and talked for hours. Over the course of the next few years, he became my steady boyfriend, and my mothers kitchen table became one of our favorite places. It was there that we got to know one another. We laughed, played games, and chatted endlessly. His coat draped across one of the kitchen chairs became a well-known sight.

As is always the case, time did not stand still for us or for our relationship. The Vietnam War loomed on the horizon. Rodger was drafted into the United States Army, and then transferred to Germany. But love cannot be tamped down for long and during one of his rest and recuperation visits, Rodger asked me to become his wife. I accepted without hesitation. Shortly after Rodger returned home safely, we were married.

As our love grew, so did our family. Soon we had three beautiful children two daughters and one son. Our home was bursting at the seams. To ensure we had some space to ourselves, periodically we went through our belongings, discarding or donating old clothing and toys. But I could never bear to part with my husbands suede coat. For years, it occupied a special place in our hall closet.

Then, while our son, Mike, was a teenager, it became fashionable to wear retro clothing and he began raiding his fathers wardrobe. The beloved suede coat now found a home in Mikes closet. Often, I wondered on whose kitchen chair his cologne-scented suede coat might hang, and would it have the same effect on my sons female friends as it once had on me? Mike was every bit as handsome as his dad (minus the James Dean hairdo). But all too soon Mike grew out of the retro phase and the coat found its way back into the hall closet, where it remains.

Today as I look around at my family, I realize there is a new chance for the coat to hang on the back of some lucky young ladys kitchen chair, because now we have two adorable grandsons. Like their Grandpa and Uncle Mike before them, Jake and Eric have sparkling blue eyes and slightly wavy blonde hair. Maybe someday theyll find their way into our hall closet, and the suede coat will once again work its magic.

Susan J. Siersma is a native of New Jersey. Several of Susans stories have been published in various anthologies. The inspiration for her work comes from everyday life and from the people around her. Besides writing, Susan enjoys organic gardening, time spent with her children and grandchildren, playing the violin, and long walks with her husband, Rodger.

By Lisa Kaullen Perkins

Hurry up, Shug, my husband, Henry, calls from the living room. Were going to be late.

Okaaaay, I sigh, pulling rollers from my hair as I study my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Why is he always badgering me to hurry? I mumble. Steel-blue eyes stare back knowingly, and my mouth curls into a smile. If he were to write a book about our marriage, it would be titled Running Late .

Colorful visions of 1969 flash before my eyes, as if they were just taking place that instant rather than thirty-five years earlier.

Henry tall and handsome and thoroughly disgusted points to the sign on the courthouse door. This cant be right! It says: Closed for Sedalia Day so all employees can attend the Missouri State Fair. A frown creases his brow. I wanted to get our marriage license earlier in the week, but, no, you said, Lets wait until Thursday. Now weve got a problem.

Look, I say, my hands planted firmly on my hips, we still have time to cover the three-day waiting period. All we have to do is find a courthouse that is open somewhere.

He heaves a sigh and yanks open the passenger door of the car.

Why are you always late?

Ive been busy getting all the other things done, I answer, wounded by his insensitivity.

That day, we ended up driving to the town of Warrensburg, thirty miles away, to secure the license. Today, I cant help but smile. Our marriage began running late how can he expect it to change now?

When our wedding day rolled around, I still wasnt quite ready.

Under the hair dryer at the beauty shop that morning, I frantically hemmed my going-away dress. Oops, almost late again!

Through the years our biggest disagreements have been over my being late. I do try to be on time, but dont manage very well, and Henry cringes whenever we are the last to walk into weddings, funerals, or any gathering.