The Sam's Club white roses looked great, though the boutonnieres were frozen from the day before. Evidently: don't put roses on the top shelf of a fridge, apparently it's a bit too cold in some fridges.... My heart is eternally thankful for two Great-Aunts who remade a dozen boutonnieres in the church kitchen McGuyver style.
I only burst into tears once. Melody thought she was giving me my "sentimental moment", and instead I went into a panic about my "last moments as a single woman" [No worries Mel, it makes a good story now. You'll get your pay back!]. Pam S. saved me - shooing everybody out of the room and praying with me.
Our ring bearer decided ring bearer duties were for losers and locked himself in the bathroom as we were getting read to walking down the aisle. He ended up holding my Dad's hand and helping walk me down the aisle. He refused to walk with anyone else. When we reached the front of the church Ps. Roy (his dad) was at the front to ask "Who gives this woman..." and Christopher ran from my dad to his dad and sucked on his leg like a little octopus. It was funny then; it's funny now!
If you fast-forward out wedding DVD you see that Matt and I were some sort of bad [read: nervous] metronome - we sway through the whole ceremony - tick, tock, tick, tock, tick.
My dad said the word "erotic" about 10 times in our wedding ceremony [he did the ceremony]. He was trying to talk about the Greek word for Love [eros], but ended up getting stuck on the word "erotic". I died inside, just a little.
We ate hot wings and meatballs - and I wore a big towel over my beautiful dress, so that it could *stay* beautiful. It was a bath towel... I made it into a bib and it was hideous. But funny. :)
And you know what? If doesn't matter what did, or didn't happen that day.
As my mother told me, and as I have passed on to every bride I've met since, "At the end of the day, you're as married as you're gonna get!" In other words, it doesn't matter what goes wrong, who spills what, that the ceremony wasn't quite right, that the music wasn't cued correctly, that nobody but you and your sisters wanted to dance at your reception, or that your dress bustle broke ten minutes into the reception. At the end of the day - you're married, and there's not "degrees" of marriage. You are, or you aren't.
We are. And we're doing the best we can, with what we have. We have a crazy-awesome life full of adorable children, absolutely nuts adventures, and more "stories" than you can shake a stick at.
Matthew Joseph, here's to another 55!