I think I said, “I remember why we did a small wedding” about eleventy billion times last weekend. I meant no offense to my beautiful sister-in-law who had spent the last two years planning her and her fiance’s big day, but oh my god, it was a lot of work. A lot of standing. A lot of discussing. A lot of early mornings. A lot of snow. A lot of “Oh no, we’re missing something!” Did I mention the snow? Because there was a lot of snow and of course, snow removal.
And a lot of wine. I wasn’t about to let that bottle of white wine go untouched when it was already uncorked at our table. What a tragic waste it would have been. I’m a team player, really.
Despite the mishaps, and setbacks (snow), when the day of the wedding arrived, the sun was beaming beautifully, just as it needed to do. The ceremony location was set up, and completely devoid of snow, ready for all the guests. Family lined the simplistic, and rustic DIY benches, eager with anticipation to hear the vows. The Padre, a personal friend of the groom was articulate, smooth, and delivered exceptionally as the officiant. The vows were written by both the bride and groom, complete with inside jokes, personal anecdotes, and promises of love beyond. The bridesmaids were beautiful, and the groomsmen handsome. And the bride, oh, she was stunning.
Of course, there were these two.
I may or may not have bawled when they came down the aisle, hand in hand. We’d practiced this for months leading up to the wedding, using our hallway in our house as a guide. We talked about standing with the wedding party and being exceptionally quiet, but reminding them that quiet didn’t mean not breathing, so please remember to breathe. They nailed it during the three different run through’s the night before, and we were optimistic that any meltdowns or anxiety could be staved off. When it came their turn to walk down the grassy aisle, they nailed it. I think my entire chest was overflowing with so much pride watching them.
It may have been the smallish bribe of a present that lured them toward the end of the aisle. Of course, Potato took this offer with intense seriousness. When his sister almost didn’t walk down the aisle, I was told he just took her hand and said, “Come on, I’ll walk with you. It’ll be okay.” Because, that’s what big brother’s do, right? Together, they walked down the aisle, she raced to my side the moment she saw me, and he stood with the groomsmen, and even walked out with the wedding party at the end. At the end of the ceremony when he finally found me, he declared, “I was SO quiet! I get my present, right?!”
He was quite pleased with his Star Wars Light Sabre and Kristoff doll. His sister was pleased with her brand new Anna Baby Doll. Can you tell we’re still in the ZOMGFROZEN stage in our house?
The reception was beautiful, both in decorations (thank you very much, it was a long ten hours of setup, and worth it in the end), and the program hosted by my husband and a good friend of my now brother in law, was light, funny, and personal. For all the twitching I did as my husband rushed to complete his side of the program in the few days running up to the wedding, he really hit out of the park. His stories about his sister were just spot on, the perfect mix of her and him. The speeches by the parents were both funny, and my favorite was from my father in law who made me look at my daughter and think, “No, it can’t go by that fast.” My husband looked handsome, because that’s generally what he does, and helped to make sure the whole reception ran smoothly for his little sister.
I say all of that, even though he yelled at me quite animatedly when we teamed up to play beer pong against his brother and cousin. Ahem.
Yes, there was beer pong. At any event with my husband’s family, some sort of drinking game always arises. Or someone talks like a pirate. Or dances with their shirt off. This time, someone may or may not have lost a tooth later in the night which may or may not have sent me into fits of giggles when I would ask him to smile. Beer Pong retired for the evening after that incident. Oddly enough.
Family gatherings with my in-laws are most definitely never dull.
Of course, there was dancing and a cake made with love. There were children running about, my own excitedly telling me how happy they were to be playing with “cousins”. There were relatives that I haven’t seen for years, and great conversations about where everyone is in their life. There was love wrapping every single person up on that day. It was such a perfect way to start their lives together as partners in crime, surrounded by love and laughter.
Here’s to a hundred years of happiness to the newlyweds.