This is an excerpt from the article I have up at A Practical Wedding today. Click over to read the rest.
The first time we met with the guy who runs Pre-Cana in San Francisco we were nervous. We didn’t want to say anything that would eff it up. We didn’t want to leave anything out that may be important. We didn’t want him to suddenly decide we were unfit to wed, because then what would we do? So for any of you who are engaged and are planning to go through the process but haven’t begun yet, here’s how it went for us: We chatted with him for a few minutes in his office, giving him all of the deets for our wedding (date, place, deacon) and then he took us each, one at a time, into a different room to ask us other questions (are you pregnant? do you plan on raising your children catholic? have you been married before? are you entering into this union by your own free will?) and this is where I panicked a little because holy god, I had not prepped Kamel for what he was supposed to say – the control freak section of my mind nearly clawed through the door for an emergency run down of appropriate responses. But then I heard the guy ask a question, realized I had no control over the situation, heard Kamel respond, and then heard the guy bust out laughing, and figured it would all be alright.
Then we took a large scan-tron test about how we felt regarding certain issues within our relationship. At our next appointment we would compare results.
A month to the day rolls by and we headed to our next appointment. I went straight from work to pick Kamel up and was starving and cranky. Kamel was rolling along in happy Kamel land as always, so of course what happens? We start to bicker. To the point where Kamel’s saying, “I don’t even want to HAVE this meeting anymore! We aren’t in the right head space for this sh*t.” And then, because I’m a snot, I reply, “Well too LATE! This was his LAST appointment until May.” And we stomp up the rectory steps, ring the doorbell and our church man opens the door, to our smiling stepford-wives faces. Nothing to see here, guy-who-ultimately-signs-our-good-to-go-paperwork. What happened next blew my mind.