Every woman dreams of her wedding day. It is one of the most important events in her life. It is her day and her day only. A day where she is donned in an ornate white dress with a long flowing train and matching veil while surrounded by her family and best girlfriends. Even more special, she dreams of her father walking her down the aisle with all eyes turned her way admiring her beauty and glow – a glow that only a new bride possesses. On this day, nothing or no one else should overshadow her.
The eve of my wedding finally arrived, and I couldn’t sleep. I was given some hot tea to relax, but there was no relaxing me. All I could think about was what the wedding would be like - hoping that nothing would go wrong. What if someone stood up and publicly protested when the pastor asked them to speak now or forever hold their peace. Lord, please let them hold their peace!
I laid in the bed so at least my body could rest. I had butterflies in my stomach, and there were so many last minute items to complete. Luckily, Dana, a close family friend, made it her mission to take good care of me so that I would look and feel my best the next morning.
Saturday, May 15, 1999, the day that I had dreamed of for so long, was finally here. I couldn’t believe it. I think I prayed for ten months straight that this day would go off without a hitch. If the beautiful Saturday morning sunrise was any indication, it was going to be a perfect day. Still, I couldn’t shake the nervousness. I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that today was the day that I was going to walk down that long aisle of family and friends and marry the man of my dreams, Marceous King. Yes, I was finally going to be Mrs. Ondrea King!
I was twenty one and he was twenty two. He was handsome, charming, and very confident. He opened doors for me, always smelled good and dressed nicely. Most importantly, he loved the Lord. He was a faithful member of the church choir and the youth department’s drama ministry. He also attended Sunday school faithfully. Marceous was very giving as well. He always went out of his way to help others, and he seemed to really love his mother, Beulah Mae. I was once told to observe how a man treats his mother as it is probably an indication of how he would treat me.
We would just go out and talk for hours and hours. He would always make me laugh. He would take me to local plays and concerts and out to dinner - and I’m not talking about McDonald’s! He would take me to nice places like Houston’s. Our favorite spot was Olive Garden. We went so often that the waiters and waitresses knew us by name. We jokingly asked them to “keep those grape juices coming!” I know that seems corny, but it was our inside joke – one that only the two of us understood.
During one of our earlier conversations, we talked about the fact that I was a virgin and intended to save myself until marriage. I hadn’t even kissed a guy until I was seventeen years old. He respected and shared my convictions and that endeared me to him even more. He was honest about how he was not a virgin himself, but I didn’t mind that to a certain extent. I mean, one of us needed to know what we were doing when the time came, right?
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