An Unforgettable Day

I have a few unforgettable days in my life. I’ll always remember the days I met my kids (both adopted). And the day I got the news that my father died will always stick with me. And then there was holding my mother’s hand as she died.

The last two were very sad, and the first two–well, I try to preserve my kids’ confidentiality here. So I’m going to talk about another big day.

My wedding day

Yes, that’s me waaay down the aisle on the left.

We had a relatively small wedding, about 75 people. Being fully employed and living independently, we paid for it ourselves. And, since most of our family lived out of town, we did all the organizing for the wedding.

This meant that the day before the wedding I drove the moms and my wedding party (my sister and my niece) to the north side of Chicago to meet up with the hairdresser who would be coming to the house. My mother-in-law decided it would be a good idea to get a perm that afternoon, so by the time we left, I was frantically cutting down side streets through rush hour traffic to make it to the church in time for the rehearsal. Ours was one of four tightly scheduled weddings, and I did not want to be late.

But we made it, then proceeded on to the rehearsal dinner (which we also paid for) and everyone returned to my house to party.

The Day Of

I was up at the crack of dawn the next morning getting coffee into me. My parents were staying with me, and my sister and her family soon joined us. The hairdresser showed up on time, and then a few minutes later, three hours before the eleven o’clock wedding, my soon-to-be husband dropped his fully dressed mother off at the house because she was nagging him to get out of bed. Naturally, she had her hair worked on that morning also!

Soon after I’d had my hair done but before I was dressed, eight members of my extended family who’d come in from out of town dropped by my little house to visit. After a bit of small talk, my sister hauled me off to the back bedroom and poured me a much-needed glass of wine.

Eventually, the visitors left, but when they did, we realized we didn’t have flowers.

Disaster!

Every bride needs some kind of bouquet to carry down the aisle! As I was about to send someone to the backyard for some greenery or to the local grocery store for a bunch of whatever was available, the florist appeared.

We made it to the church on time, the groom showed up, and I didn’t trip going down the aisle on my dad’s arm. The reception went well, and then everyone came back to…you guessed it, my house, to party afterward. We left before everyone else, but my father told me later he thought some of the guests would never leave.

A Better Way

And looking back makes me realize, for introverts like me, maybe eloping is a better way!

But it’s certainly an unforgettable day in my life!

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