and then it was over
I’m sitting at my parents’ dining room table surrounded by flowers that are dropping from their stems one by one - turning from “perfect white” and “ivory” to “baby-$#!^ brown”, parasols with “antique blue” ribbon tied at the handles and a group of people who look as though they went to one-too-many keggers this past weekend.
A wedding is a monumental accumulation of time, ideas, paper, foliage and people. Some remnants of the day make their way back to the house to remind you that it did, indeed happen. That you did see everybody you know and love. That your sister did indeed legally bond herself to a man that you have come to know and love. And that your son did wear his first suit and tie.
You keep checking the photographer’s blog for a hint of what the day was like. Because memories are not enough. It was a total blur. You gave a speech that you made up on the spot - thank goodness the rolls royce broke down on the way to the ceremony or else you wouldn’t have had anything to say. But, opening up for the father of the bride makes it easy - I could have recited my ABC’s and nobody would have remembered. I thought the speech that my dad gave on my wedding day was amazing - but, what he said to and about my sister could possibly have made for the best father of the bride speech of all time.
Kylie was radiant. Jeff was handsome. My parents were ecstatic. The kid was gorgeous in his sear-sucker. Yes, Marc wore white shoes with belt to match. And I am unrecognizable to myself.
Albert, please tell me I have at least one portrait without that weird fake smile plastered to my large round face. These are the first real photos taken post-child. My legs are pasty from months of not seeing the sun. My face seems to have completely changed shape. My bust, although only a “C” cup at my most “maternal” looks completely out of proportion. And I think I’m shorter than I was.
Other than feeling like an alien in my own skin, and not being able to wear my favorite color - honestly, what’s wrong with the matron (egads - that is an ugly word!) of honor wearing black for a garden wedding? - it was a beautiful day.
Listening: Shout Out Louds
Thank you for being the absolute best bmaid/matron of honor. Since you had never been a bridesmaid before, it is understandable that you didn’t know what all your responsibilities included. It is too late now, but I probably should have told you that bmaids are not expected to style the entire wedding, design the invitations, organize a whole day full of activities for a bachelorette party, and go so very far out of her way to make sure the bride’s wedding day is perfect and exactly what she had hoped for. Really all you needed to do was show up and look pretty - which you also did. Oops. Sorry about that.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You are the best sister a girl could ask for. I love you.
Aimee, everyone in that picture looks gorgeous, particularly one very small little person.
good-looking Shelias and the stud-muffins were gorgeous,especially “mini me”.Great photo,s.c.maggy.
Just got through reading all your news. Harrison is just too adorable and what a lady killer in that suit.
You look terrific too as does Marc
Give my love to the handsome men in your life.
Love the Barack shirt on Harrison.
Love
Carolyn