By Meryl D. Pearlstein
At seemed at first like a sign of pure contrariness. After a traditional wedding, largely dictated by other people's expectations, I wanted our commemoration of 10 years of marriage to be something truly memorable, something unexpected.
So there we were in Las Vegas. Our two sons, ages 4 and 7, were wearing blue suede shoes and humming "Viva Las Vegas" instead of "Here Comes the Bride." My gown? A kicky '50s body-conscious sailor dress. My husband sported a white silk boutonniere (no real flowers anywhere in sight). A black, fringe-clad Elvis impersonator, Norm Jones, held a Liberace-style candelabra instead of a Bible as a videographer recorded each precious second.
We renewed our vows, but this time the marriage was in the eyes of both the King and God at the Graceland Wedding Chapel. And it was a trip.
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