Real world fairytale
The rock-star wedding of two eternal optimists: Love can conquer all, evencancer
As young girls, we all dream of our fairytale princess weddings. Some of us may even obsess over it. The long white gown, the stunning veil, the superfluous flower arrangements — everything a little girl could possibly want to make her special day absolute perfection.
But what happens when those same peaceful and happy dreams get muddled into violent nightmares jaded with overflowing medical bills, chemotherapy and the most trying times that anyone could ever have to face?
For most couples, they’d probably throw in the towel or cry themselves to sleep every night sobbing, why me?
But not Christian Arnheiter and Alexis Kidd, who lived their fairytale wedding a few weeks ago at the Villa Rinata. While their wishes were granted thanks to a Wish Upon a Wedding, the real reason their wishes came true was a familiar one: true love.
Alexis called her big day her victory dance. "It's the way we get to celebrate the fact I’m still here,” she says.
There are an estimated 200,000 weddings each year in Texas, and I can assure you that none of them were as intimate and inspiring as the one Christian and Alexis shared. Alexis called her big day her victory dance. "It's the way we get to celebrate the fact I’m still here,” she says.
In those 200,000+ weddings, odds are none of the brides' or grooms' hair colors matched their floral arrangements, as Alexis and Christian's did. Dream Bouquet matched Alexis’ glowing magenta locks to pink roses and dianthus and Christian’s orange Mohawk (which reaches a gravity-defying 11 inches tall) to orange roses and snapdragons — an individualized touch for the ultimate rock star wedding party.
As for the wedding party, Christian and Alexis stood together alone with a small gathering of less than 50 of their closest friends and family right behind them. Not a single one without a camera, and certainly not a single one without tears of joy and hope for the beautiful couple.
In 2007, Alexis was diagnosed with an abnormal progression of Mesothelioma, which was discovered during a gallbladder surgery. Since that day, Christian has maintained a genuinely optimistic spirit, sometimes enough for the two of them, and lovingly stood by her side. He believes in the good in people and in life, and says that this woman, now his wife, and their beautiful wedding reassured him that he can, in fact, continue to look for the silver lining.
The survival rate for patients with Mesothelioma like Alexis' is statistically low, with 39 percent surviving the first year, 20 percent surviving two years, 11 percent surviving three years, 10 percent surviving four years and only 9 percent surviving five years after diagnosis. Devasting odds, to say the least. But there is no trace of those tragic numbers in the looks on Christian or Alexis' faces — two best friends, in love and brought together by mutual friends and their mutual adoration for scooters. The stuff dreams are made of.
As an outsider, it's hard to pinpoint the most touching part of the ceremony or of their love story. I think a frontrunner was Christian's choice to take Alexis' last name. Or this poem he composed for the occasion:
Two souls with a single thought waiting to endure.
A love that shines so magical to cherish and mature.
You’ve shown me, what being in love means.
Now I declare with all my being.
This is my profound, moment in life.
Let love reign and you be my wife.
— Christian Arnheiter
“Every time Alexis was admitted to the hospital, every doctor, every nurse and every staff member assumed we were married. Every step of the way I was always called Mr. Kidd. Taking her last name is to symbolize that,” Christian says.
Alexis’ magenta locks matched the pink roses and dianthus and Christian’s orange mohawk matched orange roses and snapdragons — an individualized touch for the ultimate rock star wedding party.
Taking Christian at face value, one might think he's some stereotypical hardcore dude who requires years and years (and perhaps even a sledgehammer) to get to the feelings inside. That's certainly what I thought.
Perhaps it's his orange mohawk that threw me off, but within seconds of speaking to him, it was like I had known him for years. Maybe it's because I was asking questions about the love of his life and how they met — a subject, it seems, he could talk about for hours with the biggest of smiles. She's his muse, if you will.
“When something nice happens to you, that’s what makes you forget all the bad things, and that’s what today is for me. That’s what Wish Upon a Wedding did for me, and I am forever grateful,” Christian said on his wedding day.
Wish Upon a Wedding takes applications for couples that are facing terminal illness or special circumstances. This was only the second wedding the Houston chapter has granted. Due to the amount of applications the organization receives and the odds of being selected, Christian submitted the application without telling Alexis. He says he resisted in part to avoid getting her hopes up in case they weren't picked, but I have an inkling it was just another one of his romantic gestures. It worked.
“I’m truly amazed, because we lead such a simple life and this is when we needed help and BOOM,” he says, speaking of the group of hardworking volunteers and board members who made the wedding possible.
To Alexis, the day was a celebration of getting through a hard time and cementing a bond to overcome the trials ahead. Both Christian and Alexis know there are still more obstacles to hurdle, but they are ready to take on anything as Mr. and Mrs. Kidd.