Kristina was here. The one who started it all. The other Kristina was also here. The one who spent the summer in Petoskey with me and braved the cold winter there, too. Amongst my sister, my mother and myself, we would call them the ‘tall Kristina’ and the ‘short Kristina’. Years later I met Christine, an amazing woman all around. That made things even more complicated and listening to my stories my sister would often interrupt me: ‘Which Kristina are we talking about here?’

Back in HHI the two friends were the only family by my side on my big day.

They missed out on my bachelorette party, but took part in the bridal shower. Both events were lots of fun and step by step brought me closer to my wedding. Still, I found it hard to believe that I was the bride to be. I don’t think I understood back then what marriage was all about. I needed 20 more years of good and bad experiences to start getting an idea what it truly meant to be married. What I understood was ‘the wedding’ and I knew exactly what I wanted.

I had always dreamed of a wedding on the beach. In reality, having older people walk on sand and complain about it was not something I wanted to deal with on my big day. So we planned the ceremony and reception at Country Club of Hilton Head.

And the photo shoot on the Dolphin-Head beach.

The mother of the Chef got his side of the family to help decorate the Country Club. The wedding colors were sand, of course, and blue, or shades of it. I consider myself a lover of the sea and the sky, indulging limitless shades of blue (occasionally indulging 50 Shades of Gray, too).

The Chef had planned the perfect menu and I ordered the perfect cake. Not only it was finger licking delicious, it was decorated with real seashells to go with our ocean theme. It was perfect!

The music had been carefully selected. Mostly by my husband to be. I was more into the cake business (see above) and let him be in charge of the songs. He had put a great list together, our song being Just the Way You Are by Billy Joel.

I had done all the scrubbing, waxing, toning and pampering that I could possibly do, and after numerous visits to my hairdresser’s, after a lot of trial and error we had come up with the festive yet beach appropriate hair do.

I didn’t trust anybody with my make up. I was certain I’d have too much of it on and wanted to stay as close to natural as possible.

I was ready to spend the rest of my life with this man. Or was I?