I didn’t have a big wedding. Maybe 125 people. The place where we got married, The Elkridge Furnace Inn, came with a wedding planner, and he was forty shades of awesome. He told us to spend money on having a good time, and not to waste it on things like flowers and favors.
That was great advice. I had a stunning bouquet, and real roses for all my bridesmaid’s bouquets, but no flower centerpieces, no flowers on the aisle. I spent less than $1,000 on flowers.
I’m not ashamed to say my dress came from David’s Bridal.
We did have top shelf open bar, filet mignon, and crab cakes. A live band. I have some wicked badass pictures from a great photographer. (Mike, just shut up about the videographer. Okay? Okay.)
I received great gifts. I’m blessed and lucky to have such generous friends.
I wrote thank you notes for all of them.
Only half of them got mailed.
I discovered the other half in a desk drawer, like a year after the wedding. I was horrified. Embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do.
I threw them away. Like that would make it better.
I should have just put stamps on them and mailed them. Better late than never, right?
Of course I regretted my rash decision. But I had a newborn to take care of, and honestly, I wasn’t getting a lot of sleep at night. My mind wasn’t at its best.
When I decided I’d been a complete and total fool, I realized something else: I had no idea whose thank you notes I’d thrown away. I didn’t even have my “gift list” anymore. You know, the list of who gave you what so you can actually write the notes?
I didn’t know what to do.
So I didn’t do anything.
I’m still mortified. But it’s been almost five years. I think I can apologize publicly.
If you gave me a gift, and I didn’t thank you, please know I appreciate your generosity. I love you all.
I’m just an idiot.