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Hi, we're Modern Vintage. We love weddings, we love love & we love to sing while we set up. Our favorite part of the day is watching you, as a new couple, walk back down the aisle after the ceremony. That feeling of elation & pure joy is why we do what we do.


Vows: Being Present

Jan 28

Day one of our honeymoon: circa 2009

Marriage is not always glamorous. Especially when some of the newness starts to wear off and the grind of day to day life starts to take over. It’s easy to lose sight of what’s important when you get wrapped up in your own issues. There was a time, not too long ago, when I was stuck in a horrible, dead end job. I didn’t get along with my boss, my colleague was constantly trying to one up me and I had to travel quite a bit during the week. I was flat out miserable. The stress was almost more than I could handle – I would drag myself out of bed each day, suffer through the afternoon, then burst into tears the minute I got into my car to go home. I dreamt about the day I could walk out of the building, maybe throw a few choice words at my boss, and never come back. My hubby, always the sensible one, reminded me constantly, that just wasn’t practical. We had a car payment, rent, mountains of student loans. I had to stick it out until I could find another job. And it’s not like I wasn’t looking. I would spend hours sending emails, revising my resume, and writing cover letters. The fish just weren’t biting.

I’m not gonna say I didn’t resent my Stefan for “making me” keep that job. He had a cushy job working from home for a company out west with a boss who loved him. He rolled out of bed at 9am each day and walked into the spare bedroom to work. He didn’t even have to put on pants!  I was so depressed and miserable, it effected everything else. I walked around like a zombie. I ate the food in front of me without tasting it. I would have these elaborate daydreams where I would just run away from everything – skip town –the country even– and not look back. I wasn’t present in my marriage – I went through the motions of daily married life, but to be perfectly fair, I wasn’t a very good wife. All I cared about was my own misery.

My hubs noticed my downward spiral and recognized that it was no longer just your normal “I hate my job” talk. He started hoarding money. He poured over the budget and found areas we could skimp and cut and save. He surprised me with a gift certificate for a massage (one of my all time favorite things) and sat me down and told me that if I needed to quit my job, quit. He understood and he supported me, whatever my decision. We would find a way to make it work. Just having that support from him, knowing that he did understand and was willing to risk our financial situation, our comfortable little house and everything else so that I could be happy, changed everything. It made it somehow tolerable. I realized how lucky I am to have someone who loves me that much and because of that, I decided to stick it out. For him. For us. I was going to be a present and active member of our lives. Just because things were bad at work, didn’t mean they had to bad at home. I was just making them that way. And things started to get better. A short time later, my opportunity to get out finally came. I am so thankful to my hubs for sticking it out with me through that awful time. And for reminding me that I needed to get it together and stick with him as well.

To my amazing husband, I vow to love you and to stand by you as you stand by me. In sickness and health, through messy houses, stressful jobs, credit card debt and loss of loved ones. Through times when we couldn’t keep our hands off one another and times when sweat pants and an hour of Downton Abbey sounds like the perfect date night. Thanks, bud.

New Year's 2013: 3 years down and going strong

Join us February 16 for Vowentines and a chance to renew your marriage. Tell each other once again what made you fall in love and why, even if it’s not always glamorous, you still want to experience all the love, pain and even boringness of life together.

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