On Saturday September 16th 1950, Joan Loretta McGrath and Thomas Maximillion Springer were married in Our Lady of Good Counsel Church in Rochester N.Y. My Maternal Grandparents.
I remember seeing The Dress once as a young girl. One afternoon during our annual summer trip to Rochester, We--my Mother, my Sister, and me--were in the basement with my Grandmother ("Nanie" to us.) Much to my disbelief, magical dresses were produced from the deep, dark, nightmare-inspiring closet in the basement. My own Mother’s (JoAnn's) wedding gown, my Grandmother's, and my Aunt Aileen's were brought into the light. My memory of this special day does not include the style, the fabric, or the structure of those dresses; instead I simply remember a feeling of significance and awe. Significant, to be included in the looking at and touching of these family bridal garments; awe, to imagine the young brides these strong, wise women must have been.
This past summer when Stephen and I were in Rochester, my Nanie offered her wedding dress to me to wear on my own wedding day. Without an ounce of pressure, I began to think about this. I was honored to say the least. I am their first Grandchild. They hold a unique place in my heart and are sewn into the very fiber of my being. Too fragile to travel anymore, this offer presented a way for her and my Gabink to physically be here, with me, when I take this next great step in my life. And, prior to this, I had no concrete ideas about what kind of dress I wanted to wear on my wedding day. My own choice of dress had not been hugely significant to me. Now, suddenly, it was. I wanted to wear The Dress, the very fabric my Nanie wore when she spoke her vows 61 years ago. I wanted to have my Nanie and Gabink with me on my day; not just in spirit, but physically. When The Dress did not fit perfectly, this did not matter. My Nanie sent the dress back to California with JoAnn in August. It is in the creative hands of Maria Vallejo, a local seamstress, as I write. Maria too, has her part in the story, as she first met me years ago when she lived in an early form of the Pathfinder Community. I did not want just any seamstress to work on my Nanie’s Dress. When I went with my mom to meet Maria for the first time, Dress in hand, she touched the fabric with her own magic, sensitive to the spirit passed through satin and lace. Now, I cannot wait to don this magical fabric, the very same which my Grandmother wore decades ago on her wedding day, when I pledge my vows to Stephen: my love and my life.