LIFE UPDATE: Megan BECK is no more!! I officially got married in November of 2020 and took on my wonderful husband’s name: Wisener. and I’d say I’m wiser for it 😉

Our wedding weekend was one of the most wonderful weekends ever; it was so full of joy and laughter. I was surrounded by people that loved me, supported me, and wanted nothing more than to see me happy as I married my best friend, Britt. 

Wedding weekend, from the outside looking in, was pretty perfect. My maid of honor and another bestie came Friday night to stay with me. I had a Saturday filled with bachelorette festivities (painting, mini-golf, a lunch tea party, a game night, and just girl time…I loved it). We had our rehearsal on Sunday where I got to stare into my fiancé’s eyes and envision what was coming Monday (the big “I do!!”) and we spent that afternoon with family, go-karts, and an evening of Mexican food before saying goodbye to each other and awaiting the big day.

That was from the outside looking in: smiles, laughter, and preparation; but from the inside looking out, it was, well, not so perfect.

You see, what most people didn’t know, was that my grandpa was sick. It started as pneumonia, but a few days later he was rushed to the ER because he couldn’t breathe. Next thing we knew, he was on his way to the hospital via ambulance due to his low oxygen levels, where a positive COVID diagnosis and a ventilator were waiting around the corner. 

It all happened so quickly. He arrived at the hospital on a Saturday morning, 9 days before our wedding. I wasn’t worried about him, really, until I spoke to him on the phone Monday morning (one week out). My parents encouraged each of us to talk to him, as an encouragement to him, but also as a precaution for us, in case it was one of the last times. 

I was so happy to hear his voice and know that he had the strength to pick up the phone and talk to me. When our conversation began, he started crying and told me he was so sorry that he could not make it to our wedding. My grandpa doesn’t cry often, so this was painful to hear. He had been looking forward to our wedding for many months and had just bought a new suit and tie, eager to watch one of his grandchildren start a new chapter. It broke his heart to miss it, and it broke mine to hear the tremble in his voice. 

I quickly told him that we would be live-streaming it for him to watch from the safety of his hospital room and that all we wanted was for him to get better. That’s all we wanted. He was very happy to hear that and the conversation was fine…until he started speaking in a way that implied his absence. He told me that Britt and I would have a wonderful life together and that he loved me. That one line, “Britt and you will have a wonderful life together” broke my heart, and I refused to let him speak that way. I switched the focus and affirmed him that we would see him upon our return from our honeymoon to show him all of our pictures and hangout together. I could feel him smile through the phone as he agreed with me, simply for my sake, because I couldn’t handle it. 

We said goodbye and I got off the phone and cried. I could tell he was saying goodbye, not just from the phone, but long-term. I did not tell my mom about the conversation, as I did not want to assume the worst, and discourage her.

I remained optimistic and tried not to think about what he said to me, but by the next morning he was on a ventilator. Our hearts were breaking as we watched Grandpa struggle from a distance. Linda, his beloved wife, could not even be near him because of the restrictions, as well as her own positive test. 

My dad pulled me aside Tuesday afternoon and told me that Britt and I needed to discuss our plans post-wedding, as Grandpa was slowly declining. Of course, whether we took our honeymoon or not was always Britt and I’s decision, and our decision alone, but my dad just put in my ear the reality that if we leave, Grandpa might pass away while we were gone. I couldn’t bear the thought of that. My dad and I cried together, mainly out of hurt for my sweet mother, who was losing her dad while planning her daughter’s wedding. 

I called Britt to talk through what I knew, and he was so supportive and wanted us to make a decision that centered on our family more than us (my guy, always selfless and others-focused). 

I went on a walk to spend some time with Jesus. I cried with Him for awhile, just overwhelmed with the emotion of the week, the decisions before us, the possibility of cancelling our honeymoon, and so much more.  But that evening, things seemed to look up. We thought the ventilator was working and stabilizing Grandpa’s vitals, so Britt and I kept our honeymoon plans and moved forward with our week. 

On Friday, we went to pick up Carly from the airport as planned and had returned home to eat dinner. Britt was at the apartment preparing for friends and family to come celebrate him. Not too long after getting home, my dad walked in, visibly upset. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He was silent, and I was terrified. He broke the news that Grandpa wasn’t doing well, which actually came as a shock. Britt came over to be with us as we slowly unveiled the full story.

The next morning was supposed to be the best day. All my bridesmaids were coming in town to celebrate me, and Britt was spending time with his family. Instead, that morning, we called Grandpa and said goodbye to him. He was still on a ventilator so he couldn’t say anything back, but the nurse held the phone to his ear and let us tell him we loved him. 

That was a very difficult moment. I cried…a lot. It kind of felt like saying goodbye to someone who wasn’t even there, but at the same time it felt like we were giving up on someone who wasn’t gone. But the day had to continue, so I put on a good face, along with my mom, and celebrated with my friends all day. It ended up being just what I needed to keep my mind off of Grandpa and on the coming wedding. 

That night, less than 48 hours from our wedding, my grandpa went to be with the Lord. 

I let the rest of the night continue as planned, and I seemed fine. I wasn’t hiding anything, I just genuinely felt okay (I guess that’s the part where things haven’t hit you yet). But as soon as I went upstairs to bed by myself, I was a complete wreck. I called Britt, just so overwhelmed with everything. I wanted a hug, but it was late so he tried to talk me to sleep. I tossed and turned until about 1 in the morning, where my good friend and wedding coordinator, Katie, was awake apart of a prayer chain (the midnight to 1am shift). Katie was faithfully praying for another friend, but little did she know that God placed her there to be with me in a time of pain, where I just needed to be held and heard. Katie loved me, encouraged me, gave me tissues, and sent me to bed. I cried myself to sleep that night, but at least I slept. Oh, the power of a friend. 

The next day was very tough. There were so many highs, and so many lows. At our rehearsal dinner, my sister in law asked me if I was excited for tomorrow, and I said yes, but in that moment, for the first time that weekend, I was honest with myself: I was not excited. I was completely overwhelmed with grief, and felt like our wedding, and my family’s desire to please me, was keeping us from truly grieving. I felt guilty for being celebrated in a time of hurt. I had not had any time to process the pain of what had just happened, none of us had. And all eyes were on me, making sure I was okay, I was having fun, and that I was cared for, while, in my head, everyone else was pushed aside. 

I pulled Britt out of the restaurant and just bawled. It was one of the hardest moments. I hated seeing everyone hurting and hiding it from me. Everyone acted like everything was okay, and they had the greatest intentions, but it burdened me greatly. I didn’t eat all day and I struggled to be fully present. After Britt listened and sat with me, we went inside. I thought I had a handle on myself until my dad said “you look tired, are you okay?” (dang it dad). Instant tears. 

Well, that ended my “perfect day” as everyone got to watch the bride-to-be break down into big fat ugly tears. Turns out, I just needed to cry, to cry with my soon-to-be husband and to cry with those who were hurting. What a relief to be loved and love others. 

You see, our perfect weekend had some mega, emotional flaws. We went forward with our wedding, and with our honeymoon, knowing that it is what my grandpa wanted. He asked me on our last phone call if Britt and I were still taking our honeymoon. I assured him that we were, and we later found out it was very important to him that we did not cancel it because of him (although we came close to postponing it). 

I cry as I type this and reflect on how difficult that weekend was for our family, but I also speak HOPE and LIFE into this message, as I remember the JOY OF THE LORD in that Grandpa was a devout Christian, without a shadow of a doubt who Jesus is. My Grandpa died on a Saturday, but he knew where he was going that Monday. He already had plans to be with Jesus. And he knew for years and years that the day he died would be the day he is united with Jesus forever. I have no doubt that when he entered the heavenly realm, God said “well done, my good and faithful servant.”

You see, I was told that the devil would do anything in his power to stop our union, as a Christian marriage is often the pinnacle analogy to Christ’s love for His church, I guess I just didn’t understand to what extent.What the devil intended for evil, God worked for our good and His glory. 

Britt and I have been through a lot in the past 5 months, many things that newly-weds never deal with. Our wedding weekend was an emotional rollercoaster, but it was still one of the most wonderful weekends in the world, as I married my guy. I wouldn’t change any of it. These moments have been foundational in our marriage, in leaving our families and uniting as one, and in remembering the goal of this life (#JESUS). And, most importantly, I know my Grandpa is living his BEST life in the presence of our Savior.

“Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness” Psalm 115:1. 

I write this to remember God’s faithfulness, to remember what happened when we got married (besides the wedding), and to remember the testimony of my Grandpa’s faith. I write this to remember God’s protection of our family, God’s presence in our lives, and his faithfulness in bringing Britt and I together, even in the midst of an impossible situation. 

Thanks for reading. -Mrs. Wisener