Fat raccoons and memories of getting married

Maybe it was coincidence. That fat raccoon out by the street, sifting through the recycling bin. He stopped when he caught me peering at him before scooting off into the night. Fat little fella’.

I haven’t seen a raccoon in ages. Not since my wife almost ran one over on her bike. But that’s been a while, and here this one turned up on a special night — my wedding anniversary.

Earlier that day, my daughter reminded me about the raccoon the size of a grizzly bear who wandered through my wedding. She knew because she had been watching the wedding video with my wife, trying to understand this strange and festive occasion so many years before she was born. It was 13 years ago, and she’s only 5.

“Was there really a raccoon?” she asked me. Maybe she thought we had planned it that way — like grownups special order these things for their wedding: a bouquet for the bride, a couple cases of wine, tablecloths, a DJ and the fattest raccoon this side of Palatka. That’s the proper way to whoop it up on your big day.

Then later this evening I saw the little bandit out in front of our house. We just stood there staring at each other. I love the little buggers for some reason, and I was transfixed. But this night even more than usual. Of all the things to see, and on this night. What a funny coincidence. And what a way to reconnect with a day that had started to feel long in the past.

Because 13 years is a lot of time, and the images have started to fade and yellow a bit in my mind.

I was so much younger back then — a kid. Three years out of college, reporting for a business journal and a new homeowner of a renovated, 100-year-old disaster area that was determined to swallow me.

And I was getting married!

My wife had worked with a dress maker to create her own wedding dress, flowing with a lace-up back — just as classy and sophisticated and sexy as you can get. I remember thinking I should have designed my own suit, but the prospect of wearing what might amount to a slightly askew burlap sack with overalls didn’t appeal to me.

The wedding took place in the courtyard of St. Augustine’s historic Llambias House, with its ancient well and a little weathered barn behind the ceremony. I think, if I recall correctly, the theme was French country with a touch of old-timey Florida thrown in to really confuse things.

My mother had made garlands from the grape vines that grew at her house in Tampa, and there were centerpieces with oranges and strawberries. There was a hammock thrown in for added effect, and a newly bought wheelbarrow propped against a tree. Everything was perfect and fitting and magical.

I remember being nervous and fidgety, and then seeing my wife. Suddenly I felt perfectly calm. Funny how the sight of someone so beautiful can settle you down and make you feel at peace. (Or like you’re just damn lucky.)

I remember dancing. We danced to Louis Armstrong, and had practiced our steps over and over again. She dipped and twirled me, and I thought the world looked even more wonderful dizzy.

We toasted and ate cake. It was a cold March day, and I gave her my coat. My tie provided no extra warmth whatsoever, but I didn’t care. A raccoon and a fat orange cat both showed up. It was perfect.

When it was all over, we marched down the street to our B&B, a long procession following us. We started running away from them, and people laughed. One friend chased us all the way there, and I thought to myself, “Brett, I’ll be damned if you’re coming up with us!”

The next day we boarded a plan and hop-scotched across England and Scotland, getting happily lost along the way. And that was 13 years ago.

Thirteen years!

I’ve grown up since then (somewhat), got my house under control, changed jobs several times and had a child. So much is different, and that day seems so long ago. Maybe I hadn’t thought about it enough, or let the memories go stale. Time will do that, and I’m embarrassed to admit it.

But sometimes all you need is a fat little raccoon to wander by at just the right moment. A little hunch-backed critter to refresh those memories and remind you’re still the same lucky guy from all those years ago.

You may also like