The Wedding

This morning I am alone at my house. Alone in the stillness. The silence wraps around me and settles as if the walls themselves are in need of recovery. Recovery from the chaos and mayhem that surrounded our past week. The walls of my office, my deep purple walls, a color that convinced my family I had suffered a traumatic brain injury, absorbed the pre-wedding events that accompany every bride's preparation for her wedding. The last minute rush of makeup, petticoats (what a delicious word....not such a delicious garment), hair pins, dresses, shoes and the main event.....the gown. This room, this purple room held my daughter and 6 amazing women who love her (7 if you count me!) as they prepared. They followed the rituals that they've learned from all the weddings before them. Those rituals that appear corny until it is their turn, our turn, her turn. A garter slipped on the bride's leg by the Maid of Honor takes on enormous significance when it is her turn. The garter, a simple band of fabric covered elastic that serves no purpose in these days of pantyhose and hose-less brides, became a focal point of emotion for me on that day as I watched it slip up her leg. Saw the camouflage colors of it hide itself under her gown. Hide itself and hold her leg with the reminder that her husband to be, my son-in-law to be wears those colors. He and his friends, his groomsmen who at the very moment we struggled with makeup and petticoats and gowns donned the shirts, pants, jackets and medals that signify their ranks and military history. Each of them with chests adorned with color, row after row pinned in order, precise placement to match the stripes on their sleeves, their shoulders, their bravery.

To say our day, their day, was magical understates the beauty of this wedding. To say our time leading up to the wedding was fun defiles the events of our week. Eventually words will come that capture the moments, the excitement, the joy of our daughter's wedding. But at the moment I wait for pictures. Pictures that capture the joy we shared for 3 days in our lives. Joy my mother shared with us as she sat in the church where she was married, where my sister was married, where I was married and held my hand as Michelle and Jay said their vows. Vows that declared their love for each other, their promise to each other, and their belief that life is good. How right they are!