I’m earning lots of loyalty points at my local printer.
In January, I walked in there again.
“Picking up the save dates. Third time lucky!”
Even my printer was feeling sorry for my partner and me. We live in Australia, and as my partner is American, we have planned a wedding in her hometown of San Antonio. Originally we had booked in for October 2020.
We listened to a range of bands and chose one we like. Visited venues and found the perfect one. Booked hotels for the traveling Aussies who would be spending a week in Texas with it. Planned activities and excursions for a seven-day fiesta like no other. Friends booked flights from across the world to Texas.
I even had an app that was full of information and had guests chatting away like any other forum. We couldn’t wait.
But we had to. And continue to do so.
Strike 1 — it will blow over
When COVID hit last year, no one was sure how long it would last. We were hopeful it would pass quickly, and the world will return to normal.
Australia closed its borders to the world, and we stayed safe in our hermetically sealed country. At the time, I thought it would be a few months of isolation from the world, and all would be on track for our October wedding.
As the months ticked down — ever so slowly as we were in lockdown — that hope began to fade away. The United States, under its inept President, was not handling the outbreak well, and there was no chance we could travel to the US. In June, with the wedding approaching — or as we were saying T minus 4 months, we had to make the call.
The wedding was postponed.
We got lots of supportive messages from friends and family.
There is always next year. It’s not that far away. More time to plan!
Strike 2–2021 will be a glorious year
September 2021 was the new date.
It was fifteen months away, and there were vaccines on the horizon. Everyone was buoyant about 2021. It would be life back to normal.
2021 would be our savior. There would even be a new American President who would be better at dealing with the pandemic.
We informed people, canceled flights and accommodation, pleaded with venues to change our booking, and made a second trip to the printer.
As Pfizer, AstraZeneca, and Moderna edged closer to successful trials; they became the Holy Trinity that would make our wedding happen. C’mon, Big Pharma! I had never rooted for you before, but now you could save my wedding! Oh yeah, and the world.
Finally, they passed Phase 3 of trials, and the US and other countries rushed them to market. Australia did not. Our Prime Minister said Australians would “be at the front of the queue” to get vaccines, but it wasn’t going to happen.
In December 2020, as we edged to T minus 9 months, we had to make the call.
The wedding was postponed.
Just delay it six months. Better to be safe than sorry. At least then, you will be able to 100% confirm the date. Think of how much more fun it will be when we celebrate together.
Strike 3 — mutation cancellation
April 2022.
It was fifteen months away. The vaccine was already rolled out in many countries. There was no way the wedding would be delayed ever again.
I bounded into the printers with a smile on my face and a confidant bound in my step. The 3rd save the date was the lucky one. We even had the line of THIRD TIME LUCKY at the top of the save the date.
They were sent out, and we again were excited. Our friends started planning trips. It would be worth the wait. Travel. Celebration. Wedding.
Mutants.
You generally see them in horror movies. The Zombie apocalypse.
And apparently also in COVID strains. The virus was mutating, and there were lots of new variants. The UK strain. The South African strain. The Brazil strain. I couldn’t travel, but it seemed the COVID virus was jetting around the world.
Australia, the hermit island, cut off from the world, remained COVID-free. Vaccination was slow as there didn’t seem a need to rush with no cases. I knew where this was heading. We were back down to T minus 11 months, but I was worried.
Two days ago, the Australian Treasurer released the Federal budget for 2021/2022. This outlined where the government would be spending money and predictions for various industries.
Hidden in this overly verbose document, on page 36, was a line that sent daggers to my heart.
The borders will remain closed until at least mid-2022. At least. Mid 2022.
I shed tears.
We needed to cancel again.
I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. This isn’t fair. Keep positive!
The lesson — keep swinging
I read a lot and write a little about personal development and growth. I see the need for positive affirmations and gratitude. I try to practice this where possible, but I felt it hard to be positive.
I know there are people in far worse scenarios. I feel sorry for the people of India at the moment where COVID is killing thousands of people each day. A wedding seems so inconsequential in comparison.
I am grateful that we live in a country where there is no COVID. But still, it is hard to put off this celebration continually. My parents are getting older and frailer and may not be able to travel if we keep delaying this.
It is to be a celebration of love for my partner. A celebration of culture as my Australian friends and family come to Texas and meet my Texan friends and family. I want them to see why I fell in love with my partner and her family, and her state.
It is more than a wedding to me. It may be the only chance for so many people I love to be in one place together. The wedding is only one part of it.
My partner says to push it to April 2023. Almost two years away. Surely by then, Australians will be allowed to travel. I said no, initially. I couldn’t face the planning and the build-up and having my hopes crushed again.
I couldn’t face a fourth trip to the printers.
How many times can I fall for the same trick? I felt like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football that Lucy keeps moving from him.
Then I thought I couldn’t let COVID, mutant zombies, or conservative politicians defeat us. I must keep swinging despite the number of strikes.
T minus 23 months…
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Previously Published on medium
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