Anybody who knows my husband, Steven, knows he is a huge baseball fan.
After all, the Oakland A’s made a special appearance at his bar mitzvah. So, when it came time to plan our wedding, my mother, Libby, and I had our work cut out for us.
Steven and I met in 1996 in New York at a United Jewish Appeal event.
I was a student at Cardozo School of Law and he was working for a parking company getting the requisite training before joining his father and brother at the family business in Oakland, Douglas Parking.
Six months after we met, he returned to the Bay Area, where he grew up. I remained in New York to finish law school. For two years of our dating relationship we were 3,000 miles apart.
We got engaged the summer before my third year of law school and the wedding date was set via cell-phone with my mother in New Jersey and the Hilton at Short Hills, for the Saturday night of Labor Day Weekend — Sept. 5, 1998.
My mother and I worked diligently to plan, as my mother referred to it, “Steven and Melissa’s perfect wedding.” We interviewed tons of bands, photographers and floral designers. We went to every bridal shop and showroom before finally deciding to have my dress designed by Ron LoVece.
Not to mention what we went through to find flattering bridesmaids’ dresses. We did it all and everything was just right down to the very last detail.
Thirteen months quickly flew by and it was suddenly Sept. 5, 1998. The room was filled with friends and family from everywhere. More than 100 people flew in from California alone! The processional, I am told, was beautiful. My cousins, who served as junior bridesmaid and flower girl, were adorable.
Years earlier, I had been the flower girl in their parents’ wedding.
The service was led by Steven’s rabbi, Roberto Graetz of Lafayette’s Temple Isaiah, as well as my rabbi and cantor, and had so much meaning to both of us as we stood under a chuppah made from our grandfathers’ tallitot. Photographs of dear ones no longer with us hung intertwined from the fabric of the canopy.
Steven stepped on the glass and we were married.
The recessional began — a quartet’s beautiful rendition of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”
My mother and I had planned the perfect surprise for Steven and the perfect way to conclude a wonderful ceremony and lead into a fantastic evening.