Something Old, Something New...
Saturday was my sister's wedding! The bride and groom positively glowed with happiness as they exchanged vows, shared their first kiss as husband and wife, swayed through their first dance, listened to the toasts and other well wishes, cut the cake, and enjoyed all of the other traditional rituals of their marriage celebration.
The typical small things went wrong, of course. The throwing bouquet went missing. The bride's train wouldn't remain bustled. One of the guests was an ass. The groom's mother is...a piece of work. Etc... but at the end of the evening these minor hassles were so much nothing compared t the enormity of the good feelings generated by the happiness of the couple and the joy their family and friends felt over the union...that and the fact that my family throws one heck of a party!
I was more emotional than I thought I would be. I'm never the sort to cry at weddings, but when my sister's voice begin to quiver as she said her vows, I almost cried, so happy was I for her at this moment. And, when she and my father enjoyed their dance together, and my father was fighting back tears of obvious pride and joy, I actually did lose it. My sister was such a daddy's girls growing up that all of the rebellion and terrible mistakes of her teens and early 20s hurt him more terribly than anyone. Their relationship was so strained for so many years, that I didn't think they would ever get to enjoy a moment like this, and I could not be happier to be wrong!
Now my sister and her husband - I really like being able to say that! - are enjoying their honeymoon in Big Bear and the first days of the next part of their lives together...and beyond that, I don't want to know any more details, I am her sister after all. ;) And my parents, Mortgaged and I are recovering in our respective homes with more than a bit of a grin on our faces. Like I said, it was a good party.
As for my part in the wedding, I comported myself admirably as the matron of honor, terribly unflattering dress as all. I didn't really think the dress looked that bad on me, until the 10th or 12th person I barely knew had to tell me I looked beautiful, because when that many people you've only met once or twice have to tell the fat girl she looks great before they say anything to the bride it's because they're trying to absolve themselves of the guilt of what they were really thinking...and that isn't just me not knowing how to take a compliment.
Despite that, I had a great time. I took care of my sister through a few minor crises, mostly manufactured by the mind of a nervous bride. I pimped her off to half the male guests at the wedding while I officiated her half of the money dance. I feel back into event planning mode and trouble shot a few of the issues that arose. I danced with my husband and talked with my relatives. I even stood with my knocking knees hidden behind the head table while I managed to deliver a pretty decent toast...I even improvised and gave an Irish blessing from memory after the best man said the blessing I had written down.