Marriage, Italian Style

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"Mom, we've decided we want to get married in Italy when we come there in two weeks. Can you arrange it?

I received that phone call a little over a year ago at our place in the Tuscan hills.

Nina and Mike had been engaged since March and had explored different options for their wedding. They considered a big event in Washington, but both had attended so many weddings that the idea did not appeal to them. Maybe they did not want to address the church-or-not question. For awhile they considered getting married the following spring outside of Florence. The question of when and where changed daily.

Then they made their decision.

I liked the idea but was hesitant about the vagaries of Italian bureaucracy. We proceeded with the understanding that things could fall through at the last minute. It was also understood that a big celebration would be held in Washington for family and friends later in the fall.

Nina and Mike did their bit at the Italian Embassy in Washington, while John and I made arrangements with the American Consulate in Florence, where they had to present themselves and all the paperwork. So far so good.

At the Consulate they were told to go to "any tabacchi" to get the official stamps before taking the paperwork to the Prefuttura, which closed at 11 am. Who knew that most of the tabacchi in Florence are closed on Tuesday mornings in August? But luck was with us. We were told we could get the stamps at the LOTTO shops. Marriage is a gamble, so why not?

With the official papers in hand, we raced back to the town hall in our village to present them for consideration before 1 pm. Everything was in order. It was August 5. The ceremony was set for Friday, August 8.

The Chinese considered 8-8-08 such a harbinger of good luck that they chose to open the Olympics then. Brides in China were lining up to book the date for their weddings. They hadn't talked to Renato, the padrone of the town's main caffe/tabacchi.

"No! You must change the date! In Italy it is bad luck to get married on Tuesdays or Fridays!"

So we changed to August 7, a lucky Thursday.

Our friends Simon and Georgia were designated as the witnesses. There would be only twelve of us at the ceremony, including Simon's family, our goddaughter and her boyfriend, and our friend Jill. All just happened to be in town at the time.

The wedding would be held in the beamed, centuries old ceremony room of the town hall. We were allowed to decorate it on the morning of the wedding, provided we finished by 1 pm, when everything in town closes until 4:30 pm.

The only florist in town was closed for ferie (vacation) for two weeks, so John, Georgia and I set out on an expedition to find fresh flowers. We struck out. Either the shops were closed or they had nothing that looked alive. We were baking under the Tuscan sun, and had a 1 pm deadline.

We drove by a field of sunflowers and looked at each other. Should we? John took a detour to a hardware shop to buy a pair of clippers. We pulled into the field and John crept (no small thing for a 6'6" man) among the flowers, snipping left and right. Georgia kept watch and I drove the getaway car.We made the deadline and the room looked beautiful for the 6 pm wedding.

Sindaca (mayor) Rita Papi performed the ceremony while Mike's parents and our daughter Alyssa listened in on open cell phones. Nina was radiantly beautiful in a simple white cotton eyelet dress with white roses in her hair.

After the rings were exchanged, Nina and Mike went out onto the balcony overlooking the piazza. A small group of women had gathered to see the bride. The owner of a small dress store played romantic music that swept across the square. She also distributed tiny pastas to the crowd, who showered the newlyweds with it when they appeared outside.

We made our way through the village, stopping first to see Renato, who opened bottles of prosecco to toast the couple who had the good sense not to get married on a Friday.

We stopped at Bengio and Carla's grocery for more kisses and good wishes before making our way to the Bar Turismo, where Manuela and Marena, the sisters who run it, had prepared a special surprise party for the couple.

We ended up at Il Corvo Ristorante, where the owner Antonio had outdone himself preparing a beautiful table for us. As a gift to the couple, he had arranged for music by Nino. Nino occasionally pointed to the bride and proclaimed, "Nina!" then pointed to himself and exclaimed, "Nino!"

It was a merry night with too much food, lots of laughter, dancing and love.
The grand finale was the presentation of the wedding cake, a millefoglie in Italy. As it was brought in, decorated with small fountains of fireworks, Nino played music that all of us thought was the theme to "Rocky."

It was un matrimonio perfetto (a perfect wedding) in a tiny Italian village in the Tuscan hills.

It was one year ago tomorrow. Tanti auguri.