I'm all smiles. I laughed through the entire ceremony.
My veil didn't make it to the picture taking. My mom was still sewing on it as I drove myself to the church for my own wedding. My dress I purchased off the rack on sale much to my mother-in-law's dismay. In my shoe was $500.00 that my father handed me just as he was walking me down the aisle to pay for the flowers. As I stood at the alter I looked at the flowers. Gladiolas. The only flower I asked them NOT to use. They remind me of funerals. So naturally that's what they used. That's when the laughter started.
The day before at the rehearsal bbq my mother introduced herself as part of the catering company. At the actual rehearsal she yelled at the priest that she simply could not sit in the same pew as her ex-husband. The best man whose one job was to gather music for the reception forgot. "Celebrate" was the only cassette the reception site had. Later when I looked at our wedding photos I realized the photographer, a personal friend of my mother in law, neglected to take any photos of my family. Or many of me for that matter. Almost all the photos are of Bill. He does look pretty fabulous. I can see why he'd be enamored.
We were young then. I was 24 and he was just 22. Both our mothers did everything to keep us from gettting married. From his mother's perspective: I came from a divorced family. Never attended college. I would never fit in socially, intellectually, or any other "ly" with Bill and his friends. My mother just never wanted me to leave her. Ever. Somehow things work themselves out. Maybe these are just life lessons that prepare us for our own children getting married. Our son is marrying in November. It is difficult to keep your opinions to yourself when watching your children plan their wedding. At times I'm not sure I've fared much better than my own mother or mother in law but I'm trying. Trying to remember that words spoken can not be taken back. That words spoken leave a lasting memory. Even if it's a small thing it can leave a big mark
Now when I see gladiolas I don't think of funerals, I think of all the good stuff. The growing up and older together. The lesson learned and lived. That forgiveness is powerful. That there are sides to stories I still don't know but just accept. And in the end love wins. It always win. That's God's plan. Love anyway.
And laugh. A lot.
My veil didn't make it to the picture taking. My mom was still sewing on it as I drove myself to the church for my own wedding. My dress I purchased off the rack on sale much to my mother-in-law's dismay. In my shoe was $500.00 that my father handed me just as he was walking me down the aisle to pay for the flowers. As I stood at the alter I looked at the flowers. Gladiolas. The only flower I asked them NOT to use. They remind me of funerals. So naturally that's what they used. That's when the laughter started.
The day before at the rehearsal bbq my mother introduced herself as part of the catering company. At the actual rehearsal she yelled at the priest that she simply could not sit in the same pew as her ex-husband. The best man whose one job was to gather music for the reception forgot. "Celebrate" was the only cassette the reception site had. Later when I looked at our wedding photos I realized the photographer, a personal friend of my mother in law, neglected to take any photos of my family. Or many of me for that matter. Almost all the photos are of Bill. He does look pretty fabulous. I can see why he'd be enamored.
Here's Bill with some laughing woman. |
Now when I see gladiolas I don't think of funerals, I think of all the good stuff. The growing up and older together. The lesson learned and lived. That forgiveness is powerful. That there are sides to stories I still don't know but just accept. And in the end love wins. It always win. That's God's plan. Love anyway.
And laugh. A lot.
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