Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Reflecting

Ten years ago today, Jason and I were married in front of our friends, our church, God, and society.

Today, ten years later, we are sneaking out to see the new addition to the Nelson-Atkins museum and having a bit of dinner at one of our favorite restaurants while Baby Girl is entertained and adored by her family.


On this day, it is appropriate to remember some things:

I remember walking into the church that morning to get ready to see one of the congregants with a mop and a bucket of water; she had gotten up that morning to make sure the church was super-clean for our wedding day.

I remember, after a tumultuous rehearsal dinner and final preparation of the sanctuary, having Rev. Keith Harris walk into church, stop in to see how I was, ask me how I was, and when I replied just as relaxed as if I had had a valium (which I hadn't), Keith said, "you're ok? You're ok!? Ok, you're ok."

I remember Jason calling me the morning of the wedding, after I was at church, and asking me to go see if his coat was in the narthex; I later found out this was because my wedding band was in the pocket.

I remember the woman who came in to do our flowers (a very modest proposition); she had also picked up flowers from the City Market that morning and, once our cake arrived, preceded to decorate the buttercream frosting with white chocolate shavings with fresh flowers in my wedding color of burgundy.

I remember all of us joking that Dennis would play "Son of a Preacher Man" while I walked down the aisle; then I discovered that he had played it, during the prelude music, along with a real schmaltzed up version of "The Old Grey Mare". I also remember that he played "Greensleeves" for me, because that was what I wanted to walk in with (thank you, Dennis); and I also remember the husband of my Matron of Honor being really confused that we had played "What Child Is This" as my entry music.

I remember hoping Tom's hair wouldn't be purple; and then not caring.

I remember the delight of recognition as the congregation figured out what we were recessing out to; I also remember how hard all of Jason's friends worked to getting it to play on the church's sound system.

I remember watching my bridesmaids walk into the sanctuary and having the realization that my train needed to be fluffed; I remember my Dad coming to the rescue and very diligently following my directions in the nanosecond that we had while the doors were closed.

I remember the Groom's cakes: a spice cake Bart Simpson and a chocolate Darth Vader.

I remember my sister-in-law, perched behind me with billows of satin over her head, diligently trying to find the hooks to bustle my train.

I remember my father-in-law, greeting me in the narthex, before the congregation came out, hugging me and saying, "welcome to the family."

I remember marrying my best friend. I love you, Jason; it is a good life.

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