Greece: Curses and Crowns

Want to know how to get through Customs with no questions asked, even when you've put a check mark in the box on your customs form that says you're bringing back potentially problematic food items?? Just tell them you went to Greece for your brother's wedding, and caught some heinous illness while there, and are still feeling "iffy." Look extra queasy for good measure. That awarded me three frightened looks and wavings-on of the hand. No baggage searched. (For the record, telling security that those large containers you have in your bag contain breastmilk also does the trick, but I didn't have a baby in tow, so...)

It's true. I had 1.75 good days before an awful wave of malaise washed over me, leaving me bed ridden and incapable of doing much else but feeling and acting pathetic. I did manage to just barely drag myself out of bed and get into my bridesmaid dress for the wedding. I prayed my little heart out that I would make it. And make it, I did. "Buck up, Lyndsay!" I told myself. Weakly. Although I missed most pictures, couldn't stand at the front of the church with the rest of the wedding party, and left the reception almost as soon as I got there, I did get there.

I missed half of the rehearsal dinner the night before, as well. But while resting behind the scenes of the restaurant, I was informed that the Evil Eye was out to get me (and boy was it out to get me). A kindly Greek grandmother said an Anti-Evil-Eye prayer on my behalf (and I was told I was "very cursed" which I agreed with). A few people watched on, probably hoping for a miraculous recovery. And while I am totally open to that type of healing (especially in my state, and in that country), the Evil Eye only had "eye" for me. No miraculous recovery to be had. A doctor visited me in my hotel the day after the wedding, and administered 3 shots to the bum, along with electrolytes. But the next day, after flying into Athens, we had to cancel our day of sight-seeing in lieu of a 4 hour stay in a private clinic. This time, an intravenous concoction had me feeling better for the most part of that day (and boy do they pitch-fork those IVs in over there—woah). But again, it wore off by the next morning. GROAN.

This is all probably sounding pretty dramatic. And I admit I can have a flair for that when I want to. But I am not exaggerating when I tell you my 24 hours of flying home the next day were the worst of my life. We're talking debilitating nausea that radiated out in to my fingers and toes. I have never constantly prayed (read: pleaded) the way I did on this trip. At some point during my 7 hour layover at DFW I asked a security lady if there was a medic somewhere in the Airport, and she asked me if I wanted to call 911, and laughed. I gave her a grave look. I even found a bunch of LDS missionaries standing around, and I implored them to say a prayer for me, which they assured me they would. Then there was the unknown voice I kept hearing in my head telling me, "You're almost there, keep going, you're doing great...just hang in there." You guys. It was extreme. I was SO pathetic. Gosh. Good thing no one I knew was around to roll their eyes at my theatrics. VERY LUCKILY my parents booked me first class for the flights home. So I had a 9 hour flight from Madrid to DFW that was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. I told the flight attendants about my "state" (and the prescription anti-nausea medicine I was popping hourly to put the fear of God into them). They gave me some extra attention, I slept, and felt relieved to be going home.

It's almost a week later, and I am still weak and wobbly. But I seem to be on the mend. I still don't have the stomach to stare at my computer screen for too long (it took me all day, here and there, to type this post), so I still haven't uploaded my photos from the first 2 days in Greece. I have no photos from the remainder of my trip. So I am glad that I can steal a few from my brother until the professional wedding photos come in. I think almost as bad as how I felt, is how much of a burden I was to everyone else. Both of my parents had to miss parts of the rehearsal and reception dinners on my behalf. And they gave up a full day of Parthenon-seeing, and Athens-touring to accompany me to the clinic. And I love them for that. Now that I am home, it would be great to be back to my normal, mothering self. But I am still a little weakling. Kind of sad to get a wife/mother back that you've been missing, in such a pitiful state. No fun for anyone.

But now let's take a look at the silver—no, GOLD—lining.


On a very happy note, the wedding was spectacularly gorgeous. You see these beautiful old churches when you go to Europe. But to experience one—have it come alive while you are part of a wedding—is amazing. I couldn't shake the feeling, watching Greg and Katia standing hand-in-hand in the small chapel, of the magnitude that I was watching their history being made. It was like looking back at old photographs of their wedding day when everyone is young and smiling, and surrounded by people who love them. They brought a priest with them from America, so we were able to hear the ceremony in English. It was beautiful. Two simple crowns of significance were placed on top of each of their heads, then switched back and forth between them. It made me think of the two bands on each side of my engagement ring. It was great to be reminded of my own covenants that I've made with Wes, while seeing Greg and Katia make promises to each other. It felt like everyone was a part of the ceremony, in a way . It was all very special. And I was happy to be able to witness their union, and share even a small part of their big day.

This is Katia (aka my new sister), looking stunning:

This is my brother, Greg (and posse):

This is the fantastic Greek Orthodox church in which they were married (totally spectacular):

And this is Greg and Katia Beauchamp (that's pronounced Beechum):

More photos to come in the next week, when I get my bearings.

Congrats, big little brother! Thanks for the wonderful sister-in-law. I love you both.