A sand wedge, a swarm of bees, and lots of sandwiches: Wedding day memories

Elysha and I are celebrating 14 years of marriage today.

We had as perfect a wedding as a couple can have.

A lot of things go into the perfect wedding day. Location, for example, is critical. Our wedding was held at Lord Thompson Manor, a beautiful estate in northeastern Connecticut that allowed us to arrive on Friday and depart on Sunday. Our closest friends could stay with us for a fantastic rehearsal dinner, a beautiful, joyous wedding, and a lovely Sunday brunch without ever needing to leave the manor or lift a finger.

If you can, this is the way to get married.

It helped that I’ve been a wedding DJ for more than two decades. I’d seen every location in Connecticut and watched hundreds of couples get married over the years, so I knew what we wanted.

Our wedding day oddly didn’t start perfectly for me. After a late night of poker and piles of sandwiches in the billiards room, I overslept on Saturday morning, opening my eyes just before 8:00.

This might be the only time in my life when I’ve overslept.

As a result, my friends and I were rushing to the nearby golf course for our round of early morning golf. As I left the manor, our host, Ted, handed me a bag filled with various breakfast sandwiches to eat on the way.

Not a bad way to oversleep.

Before I left, Elysha also gave me a gift. Two gifts, really. Sitting at the foot of our bed, tied with a red ribbon, was a luggage case for my golf clubs. Inside that case was a brand-new sand wedge.

I’ve swung that sand wedge thousands of times in the 14 years I’ve owned it, and every single time, without exception, I think about Elysha and the morning of our wedding before I swing.

If you’re going to be hitting your ball out of a goddamn sand trap, I can imagine no better way than to think about your soon-to-be bride and your wedding day.

We arrived at the golf course just in time. Plato, my friend, boss, and the man who would later officiate our wedding, and I shared a cart, and he drove while I finished my breakfast.

Things nearly went awry when I hit my ball to a spot on the fairway where a swarm of bees had congregated above their underground nest. Being highly allergic to bees, specifically ground bees, and without an Epipen, the smart move would’ve been to drop the ball far away from the bees and play on.

This would be the smart play on any day, but especially on my wedding day. If you’re ever allowed to move your ball, this would be the time.

But being a stickler for the rules – a man who has never taken a mulligan and has never rolled a ball out of a divot to improve my lie – I ran up to the ball while dodging bees and whacked it up the fairway.

As I did so, Plato scolded me for my stupidity.

It turns out that according to Rule #16, I wasn’t required to play my ball that day. Rule #16 states that a player need not play any ball interfered by an abnormal course condition or a dangerous animal condition.

As Plato rightly told me that day, I should’ve taken free relief no closer to the hole.

The bees failed to kill me that day, and things went off without a hitch. As Elysha and her friends got ready for the wedding at a nearby spa, my friends and I retired to the billiards room for more poker and sandwiches.

I remember listening to a lot of Springsteen, Queen, and Tom Petty as we played cards that afternoon.

I also remember winning.

When Elysha and I think back on our wedding day, our only regret is the enormous number of friends we’ve made since that day who were not in attendance for our wedding. Some of these people are the most important people in our lives today, but they simply weren’t in our lives on that special day.

When you celebrate the perfect day like Elysha and I did, you want everyone you love to celebrate with you, including the friends you don’t yet know and love but someday will.

I guess that’s a big ask.

So I’ll happily take my perfect day, my multitude of unforgettable memories, and my still-perfect bride on this anniversary day.