Friend and photographer Mallory Samson took this picture of Bob and me

Friend and photographer Mallory Samson took this picture of Bob and me

Thirteen years ago, when Bob and I got married at Wheatleigh, an exquisite small hotel in Lenox, Massachusetts, I should have known that destination weddings were in my future. Our reasons were typical of most couples who decide to marry away from the homefront: Ginormous guest list, ginormous hassle (we lived in Manhattan), and ginormous love for the Berkshire Mountains. Of course back then, ginormous wasn’t a word.

There were 19 people at our September 1999 wedding, including three wonderful men we have since lost, and the memories of the weekend are as fresh as yesterday: our friend Jay arriving at the rehearsal dinner with a magnum of Dom Perignon, my nephew J.X. being beaned by a softball (and sporting a stunning black eye for the wedding), cheering as the Wheatleigh crew managed to squeak the grand piano through the patio doors for the ceremony. And of course, a ceremony that dripped with emotion (literally–I couldn’t stop crying) followed by the happiest, most delicious meal of my life.

While we didn’t go into debt for the wedding, it was definitely a stretch for us. But honestly, 13 years later, I can say that magical weekend was worth every last cent.

Wheatleigh at night

Wheatleigh at night

 

 


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